LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

-?* 5 

Chap. Copyright No. 

Shelf__„„__. 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



TENNYSON'S 

THE PRINCESS 



WITH INTRODUCTION, NOTES, AND 
ANALYTIC QUESTIONS 



L. A. SHERMAN 

Professor of English Literature in the 
University of Nebraska 



NEW YORK 
HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 

IQOO 



TWO COPIES RECEIVED, 



Library of C6isgrei% 
Office of the 

MAY1-190U 

Kegltter of Copyright* 
SECOND COPY, ^-g> )fc 



&*** 'fi '?<% 



T KS5 



Copyright, 1900, 

BV 

HENRY HOLT & CO. 



ROBERT DRUMMOND, PRINTER, NEW YORK. 



PREFACE 

The purpose of this edition of The Princess is not to 
repeat the labors of former editors, but to assist and as 
far as possible ensure first-hand knowledge and appropria- 
tion of the work. 

It is no small accomplishment to have read The 
Princess discerningly and thoroughly; and recent efforts 
to popularize the poem have apparently not resulted in 
commending it or its author to wider favor. To force 
unappreciative study of a work like The Princess defeats 
culture, and weakens the influence and following of all 
good literature. Correct instruction should achieve the 
opposite of all such conclusions. Indeed, the future of 
taste for letters in this country depends largely upon the 
outcome of present attempts to administer English master- 
pieces in our academies and schools. The present manual 
has been prepared in the hope of contributing to the 
effectiveness of this work, and especially by communicat- 
ing the chief artistic meanings of The Princess without 
directly affirming them. It would seem pedagogically 
wrong to tell pupils gratuitously, except here and there 
as a clue, what they may be put in circumstances to find 
out for themselves. As a means of such independent 
study, question outlines, of the kind used in the editor's 
Macbeth, are kept under the eye of the student in connec- 
tion with the Notes. 

iii 



IV PREFACE 

Tennyson possessed the gift of interpretative expression, 
though he seemed scarcely to understand what could be 
wrought with it, or what was the lack without it. He 
soberly preserved from the flames poems, — regrettably 
perpetuated in the Memoir, which he apparently believed 
to involve some sort of merit, but which are manifestly 
little better than doggerel. Some help has been essayed 
towards enabling the reader to find the author's best tech- 
nique, and to distinguish it from perfunctory and unin- 
spired diction. I have attempted to make Tennyson's 
punctuation, which in different parts of the poem greatly 
varies, uniform ; particularly to avoid showing to American 
pupils deviations that they are not, at least in student 
years, to imitate. The spelling of the text is made con- 
sistent, as also the elision of final -ed syllables. The 
Notes do not contemplate exhaustive study of the author's 
language, but are adapted rather to the needs of secondary 
classes. Pupils will not generally drudge over the sense 
of literature that does not charm, or even look up uncer- 
tain references without compulsion. To aid the learner 
until he is reached by the message of the poem, dictionary 
meanings have sometimes not been excluded. The Notes, 
moreover, are not of a kind convenient or proper to be 
memorized, but are intended to suggest to the student 
how to find interpretative equivalents or values for him- 
self. I have endeavored to use as far as possible the work 
of other editors, and to acknowledge where traceable the 
source of every aid. 

L. A. Sherman. 
Lincoln, Nebraska, 

January 30, 1900. 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

INTRODUCTION 

Tennyson's Poetic Diction viii 

Prose Poetry, or Verse i x 

Imaginative or Interpretative Composition. . . . xi 

Materials of Literature , xiv 

Modes of Presentation xi* 

The Highest Poetical Diction xxvi 

Interpretation in Kind and Degree by Figures . . xxxi 

Highest Literary Values • . xliii 

Conceits, Marinlsm, and Phrasing . li 

Suggestions for the Study of the Poem lvii 

Bibliography of Helps . Txi 

THE PRINCESS 

Prologue 1 

Canto I. 9 

Canto II l 7 

Canto III 32 

Canto IV 44 

Canto V 62 

Canto VI 8o 

Canto VII 92 

Conclusion io 3 

NOTES AND QUESTIONS 109 

INDEX TO NOTES 181 

v 



INTRODUCTION 

Tennyson's poem of The Princess was published in 
1847. The author wrote it in the heart of London, and 
had at that time reached the age of thirty-eight. A work 
of such knightly purpose, and such patient and elaborate 
execution, could hardly have been inspired, one might 
suspect, except from something beyond the general 
interest of the theme. Tennyson, as we know from his 
son's Memoir, had as early as 1836 become acquainted 
with Emily Sellwood, and in 1839 discussed with her the 
plan of the poem that was to be. In the year following, 
on account of the poet's insufficient prospects, the lovers 
had been forbidden to hold communication with each 
other. The Princess was written when Tennyson was look- 
ing forward to a renewal of betrothal relations with Miss 
Sellwood. They were married in 1850, after In Memoriam 
had established its author's literary and social future. 

"The Princess contains Tennyson's solution of the 
problem of the true position of woman in society — a pro- 
found and vital question, upon the solution of which the 
future of civilization depends. But at the time of its 
publication, the surface thought of England was intent 
solely upon Irish famines, corn-laws, and free-trade. It 
was only after many years that it became conscious of 
anything wrong in the position of women. The idea was 



v 1 1 1 INTR OD UCTION 

not relegated to America, but originated there in the sweet 
visions of New England transcendentalists; and, long 
after, began in Old England to take practical shape in 
various ways, notably in collegiate education for females. 
No doubt such ideas were at the time ' in the air ' in 
England, but the dominant practical Philistinism scoffed 
at them as ideas ' banished to America, that refuge for 
exploded European absurdities. ' To these formless ideas 
Tennyson, in 1847, gave form, and with poetic instinct, 
discerning the truth, he clothed it with surpassing 
beauty." ' 

So far as the poem was intended to serve an immediate 
purpose of this kind it may be considered to have fulfilled 
its mission. Few readers, at least on this side of the 
Atlantic, would regard its main teachings as greatly exceed- 
ing the standard of the trite. We seem, indeed, in this 
country to have gone somewhat beyond what the author 
postulated : we have accomplished the higher education 
of woman, on a scale equal with man's, — much as his 
Princess dreamed, yet with no least detriment to her 
womanliness. But to the literary reader the poem has 
not lost its charm. If its ultimate meanings are no longer 
edifying, the artistic forms in which they have been 
declared to the world will be a delight forever. The 
Princess is the fullest expression of Tennyson's poetic 
genius, and exhibits, in a more consistent and sustained 
fashion than any other work, his peculiar inspiration as a 
poet. But to discern the beauty of the poem the unpre- 
pared student must go into training. Those who read 
poetry merely for the story, or like nothing better than 

1 Dawson's Study, pp. 9, 10. 



INTROD UCT10N IX 

the most straightforward poetic diction, are apt to find 
The Princess tedious. Moreover, people very generally 
assume that poetry is merely verse, or made up of ornate 
or high-sounding circumlocutions. They are sometimes 
taught that prose is the original, fundamental, and solely 
legitimate form of expression, and that poetry is an 
expansion, chiefly verbal, of prose meanings. It will be 
necessary, first, that the reader become better advised 
upon certain points. 

I. 

// is possible to cast common prose meanings into 
perfect metric form. The product in each case will 
not be poetry in the true sense, but versified prose, 
prose-poetry merely. Among a great number of possible 
examples the following might be ventured : — 

It rained this afternoon for quite a while. 

I have not seen him since he was a boy. 

I knew no reason why her eyesight failed. 

The days have grown so very long of late, 
Street lamps are lighted now at half-past eight. 

The first test to which verse of high pretensions should 
be subjected is the test of major rhythm. In heroic 
couplets and blank-verse lines, like the ones pioposed, 
the supporting stress of the sense should occur on the 
fourth, the eighth, and the tenth, or else the sixth and 
the tenth, syllable. We find the lines in question correct 
and normal in this regard ; the sense-stress conforms to the 
scheme of four-eight-ten in 11. 2, 3, and of six-ten in the 
others. Moreover, the examples are good in meter and 
other respects of form. But the effect, in spite of all, is 



X INTROD UCTION 

by no means edifying. We naturally doubt whether lines 
so bald, so barren of aesthetic quality, could ever find their 
way into permanent literature. However, a little inspec- 
tion will show that Chaucer abounds in such. Milton, 
with all his dignity, is not above admitting the like upon 
occasion. Shakespeare indubitably writes lines here and 
there not more select. Wordsworth tolerates them in 
theory and practice alike. Tennyson even, pronounced 
finical and effeminate at times, by some critics, for nicety 
of diction, has many prose-poetic lines and indeed 
passages, as these examples show : — 

I waited for the train at Coventry. 
We will be liberal since our rights are won. 

But as for her, she stay'd at home, 

And on the roof she went, 
And down the way you use to come 

She look'd with discontent. 

She left the novel half-uncut 

Upon the rosewood shelf ; 
She left the new piano shut : 

She could not please herself. 

Well, you shall have that song which Leonard wrote : 
It was last summer on a tour in Wales : 
Old Jones was with me. 

I'm glad I walk'd. How fresh the meadows look 
Above the river, and, but a month ago, 
The whole hill-side was redder than a fox. 
Is yon plantation where this byway joins 
The turnpike ? 

Yes. 

And when does this come by? 
The mail ? At one o'clock. 



INTROD UCTION XI 

It will be interesting to contrast the poetic and prosaic 
expressions in a couple of continuous passages, which 
shall be the opening paragraphs of Tennyson's Princess, 
and Holy Grail. Prosaic matter is italicized. 

Sir Walter Vivia?i all a summer's day 
Gave his broad lawns until the set of sun 
Up to the people ; thither flock' d at noon 
His tenants, wife, and child, and thither half 
The neighboring borough with their Ijistitute 
Of which he was the patron. I was there 
Prom college, visiting the son, — the son 
A Walter too, — with others of our set, 
Five others ; we were seven at Vivian-place. 

From noiseful arms, and acts of prowess done 
In tournament or tilt, Sir Percival, 
Whom Arthur and his knighthood call'd The Pure, 
Had pass'd into the silent life of prayer, 
Praise, fast, and alms ; and leaving for the cowl 
The helmet in an abbey far away 
From Camelot, there, and not long after, died. 

II. 

There are no meanings so prosaic as not to admit 
of being couched poetically, or in such a way as to 
address imagination, and give some degree of pleasure. 

Tennyson opens the first canto of his Princess with a 
brief paragraph which, with the last line altered, runs as 
follows : 

A Prince I was, blue-eyed, and fair in face, 
Of temper amorous, as the first of May, 
With lengths of yellow ringlet, like a girl ; 
For I had had my birthplace in the North. 



Xll INTROD UCTION 

The prose meaning to be told in the fourth line is simply, 
I was born in the North. Tennyson, evidently wishing to 
occasion some incidental delight to the reader's mind, 
manages to give the line quite an imaginative turn by 
casting it in this form : — 

For on my cradle shone the Northern star. 

A little later Tennyson makes the Prince tell of setting 
out secretly, within a fortnight of his repulse, for the 
home of the Princess. The allusion to this small interval 
of waiting might, one could suppose, have been well 
enough expressed in this way : — 

Then, ere two weeks had passed, I stole from court. 

But what Tennyson really makes his love-sick hero say, 
to make known this baldest of prose circumstances, is 
nothing less (I. ioo, 101) than this: — 

Then, ere the silver sickle of that month 
Became her golden shield, I stole from court. 

In Canto IV., where the narrative reaches the collapse 
of the Prince's scheme, another notable illustration 
occurs. The Prince, having rescued the Princess from 
drowning, and scaled the palace gates, walks up and down 
the esplanade some two hours or more. Tennyson makes 
him measure to us this lapse of time, not in denomina- 
tions of the clock, but of imagination and of the feelings 
(IV. 194, 195), thus:— 

I paced the terrace, //// the Bear had wheeled 
Through a great arc his seven slow suns. 

There are numberless examples of the same thing, in 
lines and parts of lines, throughout The Princess and 
other specimens of Tennyson's most careful work. There 



INTROD UCTION Xlll 

are illustrations rather neater and perhaps more numerous 
in Mrs. Browning. Shakespeare, and Milton, and Vergil, 
we shall remember, are adepts in the same craftmanship. 
For more thorough-going evincements, it will be enough 
to try some rhetorical experiments with the prose-poetic 
examples ventured under the last head. If a way can be 
found to indite such utterances cdifyingly, the utmost 
consequences of the principle laid down must be allowed. 
Nothing surely could seem more hopelessly unaesthetic, 
or more irremediably barren of spiritual meaning, than a 
sentence like 

It rained this afternoon for quite a while. 

But, understanding the line to have had reference, as is 
true, to a shower in a certain city, where the storm sewers 
drain the surface water of twenty-four square miles, and 
bring the river more inflow for the time being than any 
half-dozen of its head streams, we get a hint of sufficient 
dignity to rewrite thus: — 

The river-sources shifted to our roofs 
For thrice an hour. 

The second prose-poetic line, 

I have not seen him since he was a boy, 

though even more devoid of edifying sense, may be ap- 
proximately redeemed and reinforced after this fashion : — 

Enhancing years have lifted up the child, 
Through some six feet of stature, to bold looks, 
And virile beard, since last we met. 

The next example, — 

I knew no reason why her eyesight failed, — 



XIV INTROD UCTION 

is not so easy, but might be retold philosophically, if not 
poetically, in this way: — 

Her eyes were vacant to the sun and stars ; 
No blighting touch I saw. 

Finally, we come to the rhymed lines, cast, as will 
scarcely have been forgotten, in the orthodox Popean 
manner, — 

The days nave grown so very long of late, 
Street lamps are lighted now at half-past eight. 

Even this, in its turn, may be exalted by larger sugges- 
tiveness of its ultimate and involved meanings, although 
the rhyme, which will be little missed, must be given up : 

At summer solstice now the sunsets lag, 
And streets are twilight-lit till curfew time. 

Imagination may be engaged by truths as well as by 
aspects of beauty, as these examples show. How that 
may be, and what is the law of its double activity, must 
be the subjects of the next inquiry. 

III. 

There are but three things upon tvhich literature may 
be founded, or of which constructed: Facts, Truths, 
and Aspects or Experiences of Beauty. 

Perhaps it has never occurred to us that literature 
cannot be compiled or composed out of facts as such. 
Were that possible, then would a book of logarithms, or 
The Nautical Almanac, be literature pre-eminently. The 
daily newspaper is made up largely of public happenings, 
told as annals, and never rises to the rank of literature 



IN TROD UCTION XV 

because of this fact-preponderance of material. In the 
editorial and correspondence columns there is matter of a 
different sort, which sometimes mounts to the dignity and 
value of true literature. What must editorial writers and 
correspondents do to impart this permanent quality to 
their work ? " They must write with curious care," says 
one. But what is it to write with curious care ? The 
critic who is responsible for the answer just quoted is, to 
be sure, a producer of literature, yet does himself scant 
justice in professing to be merely an ingenious maker of 
phrases. Vergil, we may say, wrought literature accord- 
ing to Stopford Brooke's theory, as Dante also did, and 
Milton and Gray, and Rogers and Tennyson, as also 
Burke, and Macaulay, and Walter Pater. But Shake- 
speare, and Bunyan, and Browning, and Carlyle have been 
literature-makers not less, yet cannot be said to have 
written with much curious care. If it were insisted that 
even Browning and Carlyle are not exceptions, then let us 
take Walt Whitman. Here is a man that will be admitted 
to have made some literature, but with curious careless- 
ness rather than curious care. Few, probably, will insist 
that the carlessness is more than incidental, or deny that 
his success has been due to message, all in spite of rather 
than in consequence of the formlessness of form. In like 
manner must it be finally agreed that even curious care 
never constitutes in itself the message, but is only an 
incident or an ornament of the vehicle bringing it. There 
are men who have written with very much of carefulness 
indeed, — our college students sometimes do that, yet 
without the least success in making literature, or dis- 
covering the secret of its power. 



xvi INTRODUCTION 

That which newspaper editors and correspondents must 
do to produce what shall be worth reprinting and making 
permanent in books is precisely what everybody else must 
do to gain admittance to the noble throng who are making 
the literature of the world. They must deal with facts ae 
the raw material, the occasion, of their work, but they 
must do something more than set forth facts brilliantly or 
glibly. They must accomplish what historians achieve 
when they transform annals into history, what Emerson 
and Hawthorne do when they sit down to write, — bring 
to the surface the underlying significance of the facts. 
This is nothing less than what is often called Interpreta- 
tion, which is the process of discovering to consciousness 
the type-qualities involved in any given happening or 
object. Facts address the intellect, and are of small 
significance unless or until interpreted. The quantum of 
life that men actually live is registered in the sum of their 
experiences upon this plane. It is only when men find 
Truth, or Beauty, or facts potential of these, that they are 
inspired to write. If I draw a triangle, and by nice 
mechanical measurements ascertain that the sum of its 
angles equals two right angles, I establish a fact which I 
am prompted to tell, perhaps, but not to write a book 
about, or send report of to the papers. But if I chance 
to discover that the angles of every triangle are always 
equal to two right angles, I have achieved a Truth, and 
if it be new, — no matter were I Euclid, and publishing 
were as difficult and costly as in his day, I cannot but 
give it to the world. The impulse would be the same if I 
had discovered a new principle in education, or economics, 
or sociology. The fact or instance by way of which the 



IN TR OD UCTION X V 1 1 

discovery was made would be interesting historically, as 
would be the apple that Newton saw fall, had it been pre- 
served, but would be otherwise quickly dropped from 
mind. 

The same is true in the sphere of Beauty. If I 
encounter a lank, awkward bucolic lawyer, and observe 
nothing in him different from others of his type, I have 
before my mind simply a human fact that I shall perhaps 
straightway disregard. It is my habit, it is everybody's 
habit, to ignore things that do not seem to carry any 
ultimate or proximate spiritual significance. But if I 
finally interpret out of this man's speech and behavior the 
character of a Lincoln, I have discovered principles of 
nobility and heroism that I am moved to set forth. 
Others, more moved and having ampler means or oppor- 
tunity of interpretation, will put together books about 
him. I may be minded to write at least a sketch, an 
essay, or an oration, to make my individual feelings 
known. The same is true of whatsoever other principle 
of Beauty shall have been discovered in God, or Man, or 
Nature. 

We are here reminded of the imperious control exercised 
over us by the type-forces within that we call the Soul. 
They seize at once upon a fact, analyze it, and appropriate 
its heart of nobleness and worth ; or if that seem wanting, 
feign sometimes to have found it nevertheless. So the 
last or " ultimate " are really the first and nearest truths. 
That the three angles of every triangle equal two right 
angles is an "abstract" truth, last reached by human 
intelligence, yet existent before my triangle, or anybody's 
triangle, was ever drawn. Similarly, the sympathy, 



xvi 1 1 I NT ROD UCTION 

generosity, and altruism discerned in a Lincoln are 
" abstract " principles of The Beautiful, tardily recognized 
and evaluated by the developing soul, yet existent before 
human character or society began, or the foundations of 
the world were laid. 

Truths, and aspects of The Beautiful, alone engage and 
satisfy the soul. Facts have no power except as they 
evince a Truth, or involve an experience of The Beautiful. 
A triangle has no spiritual significance as such, but as an 
exhibition of the " law " that its angles must always equal 
two right angles, it has power with the soul. This power 
is evinced by the " high seriousness " which the soul ex- 
periences in presence of or on recognition of such truth. 
Greater truths induce the same sentiment in a proportion- 
ately higher degree. This high seriousness involves or 
occasions a recognition of Truth as One and Uncon- 
ditioned, in a widened spiritual view which has been styled 
the Mathematical and the Scientific imagination, but 
belongs to all departments in the domain of Truth alike. 

Aspects and manifestations of The Beautiful occasion 
subjective experiences of enthusiasm, which are generally 
known as Idealization. There is always recognition of 
Unconditioned Beauty, and some subjective uplifting of 
the beauty discerned towards the unconditioned plane. 
This is the aesthetic imagination, or Imagination as usually 
understood. Imagination, however, as psychologists are 
beginning to conceive it, is only a name of the soul in 
the act or attitude of recognizing or appropriating the 
Infinite under the forms of Ultimate (or Primal) Truth 
and Beauty. 



IN TROD UCTION XIX 



IV. 



There are three modes of presenting rjieaning, answer- 
ing to the three distinct kinds of meaning to be ex- 
pressed, — The Fact Way, The Truth Way, and The 
Idealizing or Beauty Way. 

Let us take, as the simplest of possible examples under 
the first head, the sentence // was spring again. In this 
there is no hint of truths or reasons, — except in again, 
which to most readers will not suggest much of natural 
law. There is also no indication of any purpose, in the 
sentence meaning, to engage the feelings. This is the 
Fact, or Prose, Presentation. 

The same idea may be communicated in such a way as 
not to declare, but merely to imply the fact through the 
laws or reasons for the fact : ' The sun climbed north from 
the solstice, the earth and the air grew warm, and Nature 
opened again her breasts to flocks and men.' In other 
words, the underlying principles of Truth are brought to 
mind as causes, and left to suggest the fact as their proper 
and necessary effect. Since the sensibilities are in some 
measure aroused, and the emotion produced is High 
Seriousness, the mode of presentation is clearly interpreta- 
tive, and of the Truth or second kind. 

The same idea may be expressed in such a way as not 
to declare, but merely to imply the fact through senti- 
ments of the Beautiful that the fact occasions : ' The 
swallows came back from the south, the wild geese flew, 
screaming, northwards, and the grass broke green again 
from the sere fields.' In other words, the underlying 
principles of Beauty in nature are brought to mind as 



XX IN TROD UCTION 

causes, and left to suggest the fact as their proper and 
necessary effect. Since the sensibilities are aroused, and 
the emotion produced is one of Idealization or delight, 
the mode of presentation is again interpretative, but of 
the Beauty kind. 

It is now evident how Tennyson succeeded so easily in 
keeping the lines quoted from The Princess above the 
plane of prose. In the first example the real sense to be 
expressed is, "I was of the Northern temperament and 
type." Hence the explanation, " For I was born in 
the North, ' ' and its prose-poetic paraphrase, ' ' For I had 
had my birthplace in the North," are really interpretative 
in the Truth Way, since they each make a cause do duty 
for one of its effects. But a principle so trite and familiar 
as this has little potency in arousing imagination, and 
might almost be mistaken for a statement of plain fact. 
Evidently the author, if he contemplated such an expres- 
sion, was dissatisfied, and sought further means. If his 
mind, like Matthew Arnold's, had inclined to truth- 
interpretations, he would likely have soon discerned or 
devised something more potential of high seriousness, — 
perhaps like this : 

For Northern blood and fancies ruled my brain. 

But Tennyson is not a truth-poet, so much as Arnold; 
the great majority of his lines and expressions are con- 
ceived in the Beauty Way. So here he communicates his 
meaning by presenting to imagination the experience of 
lying in a cradle with the Northern star shining almost 
directly overhead. Similarly, the other examples are of 
the third, or Idealizing, kind. 



INTRO D UCTION XXI 

It also becomes clear why the recasting of the prose- 
poetic lines, attempted under the second topic, was not 
unsuccessful. They were retold in such a way as to bring 
to view, quite palpably, certain significant and edifying 
type-qualities. If we can ensure fresh perceptions and 
experiences of these, we can make literature by the use or 
occasion of most obvious and trite prose materials, as 
Lamb, De Quincey, and so many others do. The famous 
Assays of Elia consist but of the commonest fact meanings 
told in an interpretative vein. Of course interpretation 
may be abused, or result in mere phrasing; also, there 
are much higher literary values than can be produced by 
resort to interpretative devices. Each of the prose-poetic 
utterances rewrought above, — except the phrase " till 
curfew time," it will perhaps have been noticed, was 
made over into a paraphrase of the Truth kind. It would 
have been just as easy to bring to the surface type-mean- 
ings of the Beauty sort, and recast the examples in the 
third presentation, if that had chanced to be the mood. 

V. 

In Prose, typically, the thing to be known is made 
to do duty for that which is to be felt. In Poetry, 
typically, the thing to be felt is made to do duty for 
that which is to be known. 

In prose, typically, all meanings, even poetical, are in- 
tellectually discerned and declared; in poetry, typically, 
all meanings, even poetic, are spiritually discerned and 
couched. The character of each spoken or written ut- 
terance is not to be sought alone in the ideas and Ian- 



XX11 INTRO D UCTION 

guage composing it, but also in the mood and motives 
of the speaker or writer. When an author has emotion 
rather than knowledge to express, he will try to make 
his readers feel instead of know, he will aim to force 
upon them some share in his emotion rather than give 
them information. When we hear a cry of " Murder," 
we know the object of the person in distress is not so 
much to declare a fact as to stir feelings of concern. 
When we have gone to the rescue, we shall most likely 
find that it is not a case of murder, but of wife-beating, 
or abuse of children. We are made to feel first, and get 
definite knowledge later. So far as he may, the poet 
does the same. He would make us feel, and is not much 
concerned, if he may succeed, about what happens after. 
He ignores time and space relations, and gives himself 
to generic spiritual aspects and meanings only. 

It is as necessary to know what prose is, typically, and 
what it is not, as to be definitively advised as to what is 
properly poetry, and what is not poetry at all. One of 
our earliest notions is that whatever is not expressed in 
verse is prose, and that any one composition cast in 
unmetric and unrhymed forms is as prosaic as any other 
lacking the same embellishments. This theory is pretty 
certain, in due time, to be much shaken. Consciously or 
unconsciously we become perusaded of an essential differ- 
ence between the language of the almanac, or the market- 
place, and such utterances as we find, for instance, in the 
Hundred and Fourth Psalm: "Thou art clothed with 
honor and majesty; who coverest thyself with light as 
with a garment; who stretchiest out the heavens like a 
curtain; who layeth the beams of his chambers in the 



INTRODUCTION xxill 

waters; who maketh the clouds his chariot; who walketh 
upon the wings of the wind. ' " These sentences are mani- 
festly nowhere in the least a record of facts. They are 
nothing, barring the solemn style, but plain prose in 
respect to form, but are unmistakably something vastly 
beyond plain prose in respect to meaning. A little reflec- 
tion will discover to us that by no conceivable rhetorical 
industry could they be reduced to prose, because in this 
case the overpowering and all-possessing sentiment cannot 
be made to descend to items or instances of intellectual 
cognition. The thing to be felt has been made to do 
duty for what is to be known, and since it cannot be 
merged in more definite knowledge, remains till the end 
of the experience wholly unexpanded into knowing. The 
same must be largely true of all examples in which a seer 
or poet attempts to impart an experience of the Uncon- 
ditioned. The sentences just quoted are interpretative, 
as all efforts to communicate experiences of the Sublime 
are interpretative, in the second or Truth way. The 
opening utterance of the Hebrew Scriptures is a yet more 
potent and significant example : " In the beginning God 
brought into existence the heavens and the earth." This 
was originally the product of most potent seership, and 
must have been indited by its Mesopotamic author, as 
well as discerned for generations by all truly spiritually 
minded hearers and readers, in a surpassing experience of 
mystic awe. But now that experience rounds out, with 
us, or the most of us, what with the revelations of the 
telescope and the spectroscope, and what with our nebular 
and monistic theories, into somewhat of intellectual com- 
prehension. The language of interpreted Truth is always 



. XXIV IN TROD UCTION 

lofty, of interpreted Beauty always refined and graceful, 
but in neither case is it always versified. When supreme 
Beauty or Truth is to be set forth, there will be, as in the 
verses quoted, a noble simplicity and a noble rhythm. 
Sometimes the mind that declares such meanings is not 
content unless there is added the minor rhythm that we 
call meter; but that is native neither to the Hebrew nor 
the Anglo-Saxon race. 

The philosophy of the three Modes of Presentation thus 
becomes clearer. The first mode sets forth facts without 
developing any of the ulterior or "type" meanings in- 
volved respectively in the facts themselves. Men use this 
language of plain fact in business, and whenever ior any 
reason there is no wish to assist or recognize any implied 
or involved effect upon the feelings. But even the most 
matter-of-fact and unsentimental of them all will carry 
over this language of plain fact into the second or the 
third mode, upon the instant, with very slight occasion. 
" Your mother died this morning," as the form of a tele- 
gram, is declared in a business-like and brutal use of the 
prose way, which leaves the thing to be known to do 
duty, without a syllable of consideration or deference, for 
that which is to be realized or felt. ' ' Your mother passed 
away this morning" is more nearly what the considerate 
and high-minded friend would telegraph, since by merely 
implying and partly obscuring the fact, it makes the mind 
realize the higher things in the realm of Truth that have 
caused that fact to be. In other words, by trying to make 
the thing to be felt do duty so far as. may be for what is 
to be known, the sender of the dispatch spiritualizes what 
he has to communicate, and lifts it palpably thus above 



INTRODUCTION 1 XXV 

the earthy plane of fact. The philosophy of the third 
mode is much the same. " All the earnings of a quarter 
of a century were swept away in a moment, ' ' is the way 
a man once declared the fact, to a stranger, of his busi- 
ness failure. He was a very plain tradesman, wholly 
unaccustomed to literature and elegance of speech. Yet 
he could not avoid trying to help his hearer realize his 
misfortune, by implying the fact, and expatiating somewhat 
upon its extent, in the sympathetic or Beauty way. It 
is a mistake to assume that only men of books and liberal 
education are " poetic. " Everybody uses the second and 
the third mode, in common speech, many times a day. 
Whatever treats of facts or of the actual in whatsoever 
way, without interpretation, is prose. Whatever treats of 
facts interpretatively, by appeal to our inner type-prin- 
ciples of Truth, is cast in the second way. Whatever 
treats of things interpretatively, through appeal to our 
inner type-appetencies of Beauty, the highest instincts and 
principles of fitness and nobleness and heroism, is cast in 
the third mode. 

There is, then, a poetry of Truth or of the Sublime, as 
well as a poetry of Beauty proper. We have always known 
indeed that the Sublime and the Beautiful exist in litera- 
ture, but have perhaps not realized that where there is not 
prose, the one or the other of these, or its opposite, must 
be in evidence to some degree. Again, we may not have 
recognized, with much clearness, that the Sublime is a 
name merely that we give to the highest degree of inspira- 
tion proceeding from the True. We make practical dis- 
tinctions here with great confidence and precision. When 
we say that this or some other person is a man 'of 



X x v l A V TROD L/C TION 

character,' we mean that he is controlled by principles 
of Truth. When we say that he is a man ' of worth, ' we 
mean the same. When we say that he is as ' true as 
steel,' we wish to indicate interpretatively that his char- 
acter exhibits the highest conceivable evincements of the 
True. On the other hand, when we say that the given 
person has a ' generous soul, ' shows a ' beautiful spirit, ' 
or exhibits ' great nobility of character, ' we are interpret- 
ing the man in the Beauty mode. All traits of excellence 
recognizable in aesthetics are of either the Truth or the 
Beauty kind. 

VI. 

The highest poetic diction is cestheiically co?nposed of 
incidental glimpses of the Beautiful and the True, in 
which the generic is used for the particular. Thus is 
the whole of the readers spiritual lore or culture levied 
on for the understanding of the smallest specific t'/ems. 

The ultimate purpose of a literary composition may be 
reached just as directly by the use of interpretative terms 
as by employing prosaic and unsuggestive diction. We 
will select a paragraph that shall illustrate the relation 
between the simplest units of meaning, and the inci- 
dentally interpretative purpose that they serve. The 
opening lines in Canto VII of The Princess are of average 
richness and strength, and practicable to quote : — 

So was their sanctuary violated, 
So their fair college turn'd to hospital ; 
At first with all confusion. By and by 
Sweet order liv'd again with other laws. 
A kindlier influence reign'd ; and everywhere 



IN TROD UCT10N XXV11 

Low voices with the ministering hand 

Hung round the sick. The maidens came, they talk'd, 

They sang, they read : till she not fair began 

To gather light, and she that was became 

Her former beauty treble ; and to and fro 

With books, with flowers, with angel offices, 

Like creatures native unto gracious act, 

And in their own clear element, they moved. 

It is evident that the diction here is provided with that 
incidental transfigurement which we have recognized as 
ensured by interpretative modes of utterance. The high 
seriousness and beauty of the passage make themselves 
felt. Every paragraph like this is a shining mosaic of 
spiritual instances, set in substitution for just so much of 
the trite and moiling groundwork of the world's facts. 
Sanctuary is surely not a good name for a women's 
college, such as now in question, so far as its architecture, 
and magnificence, and indeed its purposes, are concerned; 
but the author, making shift to indicate all these by the 
word, compels with it an interpretative recognition ot che 
sacred and extreme exclusiveness which the Princess has 
ordained and thought to compass here. Thus we feel 
that "sanctuary" is spiritually precise, and is the best 
Truth-name of the genus to which the college actually 
belongs. Violate is a word of very different suggestive- 
ness, and throws the darkest and most brutal of masculine 
shadows upon the idea preceding. It is plainly said 
antitypally as a "sympathetic" or "beauty" word of 
degree, to interpret, from the Princess's point of view, 
what has really happened to her ideals and plan. Fair, 
with like sympathetic purport and purpose, invests this 
college of violet and daffodil hoods and gowns with such 



Xxvili INTRODVCTIOX 

charm as woman's taste must always give to all things 
hers. Turned to hospital is, of course, not literally true 
at all; only for the nonce shall wounded knights be 
nursed and surgeoned here. Yet spiritually is the change 
as real as if nothing were to be done forever in those 
rooms and halls but merciful tending upon the hurt and 
sick. With all confusion is an exaggerated "feeling" or 
svmpathetic expression, interpretative of degree; appealing 
to us imaginatively in the guise of withdrawing all the 
confusion from the rest of the world, and massing it in 
this place. Sweet order lived again is a Beauty allegory; 
the muse or genius of Order is conceived to take up her 
abode here, for there is no outward show of magistracy < >r 
authority any more. With other laivs, namely, than those 
Draconian ones till now depended on to ensure security. 
Laws is the spiritual Truth-name for the forces that now 
control. " Laws " they are not, for there is no power in 
exercise to declare them, and none to execute. The 
presence of suffering, with the pity and the willingness to 
help, — such are the things that have in this home now 
more than the force of law. A kindlier influence reigned ; 
not allegory, but a metaphoric interpretation of the Truth 
kind. Influence is a good Truth name of that which now 
keeps the school-maids tame and respectful and demure. 
Instead of the truculent, unsexed will of the Princess- 
Head, who has ruled by threats, and by her oppressive, 
brow-beating presence, the air is full of a kindlier spirit 
that subdues and softens. Reigned is likewise a good 
Truth name, and puts this government into its right 
genus. Here is indeed a reign, though there is no ruler. 
Low voices (i.e., of nurses tending, speaking to surgeons) 



INTRODUCTION XXIX 

with the ministering hand hung round the sick gives us an 
impressionistic glimpse, in the sympathetic or Beauty 
way, of what is being done. The voices do not rise in 
the room, but seem to hover about the couches; those 
hands that are always near, smoothing coverlets and 
adjusting pillows, — they also seem to hover. The maidens 
came, they talked, they sang, they read, — things done put for 
the motive of the doing, as marks or measures of degree, to 
make us feel their feelings. There seem none hoydenish 
or frowzy or fro ward among the group; all are alike 
maidenly and idealized by the place, and the presence, 
and the sentiments they show. Till she not fair began to 
gather light, — to respond, that is, to the nobler sympathies 
and impulses within, to be transfigured with the marks of 
an enlarging soul. Here is an appeal to a spiritual 
Truth-law, put interpretatively for a fact happening in 
accordance with it. And she that was became her former 
beauty treble. Here is an interpretative attempt, of the 
third kind, to measure the increase of beauty wrought in 
gentle, generous souls by generous, gentle deeds. We 
often say, crudely, and inexactly, "ten times rather," 
"a hundred times more lovely," or "fortunate," or 
clever, ' ' or that we are not half so sorry for this person 
as for this other, or that we have not the tenth part of the 
interest in some certain matter as in some other one. 
There is no way of measuring a feeling, or the cause of a 
feeling, quantitatively, but we borrow the suggestion of 
multiples and ratios, in lieu of better means. Hence, 
treble, which should be a Truth-term, is here used as an 
interpretative expedient of the sympathetic or Beauty kind. 
And to and fro with books, with flowers t with a fig el offices : 



XXX IN TROD UCTION 

first, as befits young ladies of refined intelligence, they 
read to the prostrate sufferers; next, they set flowers so as 
to be in sight always of the patients, — thus measuring to 
us the degree of their inspired thoughtfulness ; and with a 
hundred indeterminate little kindnesses, like a mother's 
to a suffering child, offices such as the presence of angels 
might procure, not in smoothing pillows, or administering 
drinks or viands, but inspiring calm and strength and 
cheer; like crealures native unto gracious act, — servitors 
whose birth endows them to ceaseless acts of graciousness ; 
and in their own clear element they moved, — like angels in 
their purer world, where there is no merchandizing, or 
bickering, or drudging. The whole palace seemed a. world 
of gentleness and beauty, an ethereal sphere. Only here, 
and thus, Tennyson would hold, does earth touch the 
confines of heaven. Woman should never hedge herself 
from man, or enter into competition with him, but allied 
with him without fear or presumption, inspire his work 
and complete his mission, so enlarging her life and 
ennobling his. This echo of the author's final meaning 
sounds everywhere in this closing canto of the poem. 
The whole, to prepared and discerning souls, is an evangel 
and a prophecy, — by no means obsolete, as some would 
hold, — of rarest delicacy and power. As a piece of inter- 
pretative writing, it is, without gainsaying, unsurpassed 
in universal literature. 



INTRODUCTION xxxi 



VII. 



Interpretation may consist not only in identifying and 
bringing to consciousness ultimate qualities of the Beauti- 
ful and the True, but likewise in evaluating or realizing 
imaginatively their degree. 

One of the chief means of interpretative expression is 
Figures. In order to understand what figures do, it will 
be necessary to inquire into the essential elements which 
make up each as an idea. Let us take examples from the 
third paragraph -of " The Prologue " in this volume: 

' that was old Sir Ralph's at Ascalon : 
A good knight he ! We keep a chronicle 
With all about him,' — which he brought, and I 
Dived in a hoard of tales that dealt with knights, 
Half-legend, half-historic, counts and kings 
Who laid about them at their wills and died ; 
And mix'd with these a lady, one that arm'd 
Her own fair head, and sallying thro' the gate 
Had beat her foes with slaughter from her walls. 

There are three strongly interpretative figures in this 
passage, "dived,"' "hoard," and "mixed." To dive 
means to cut one's self off from one environment, and 
adapt one's self immediately to the exigencies of another. 
It serves as the name of at least three combined efforts 
and experiences, — of throwing the body violently and 
blindly forward, of plunging head foremost, with the arms 
stretched and hands clasped above, into deep water, and 
of holding one's breath, of establishing one's balance, and 
otherwise behaving fish-like, under the water. All who 
have ever risked the feat recognize emotionally these three 



XXX11 INTROD UCTION 

stages in the suggestions of the word. It is not possible 
to use dive as a figure except by borrowing one of the 
component elements of meaning, and Tennyson here 
appropriates the second. He represents himself as stand- 
ing, together with his six Cambridge friends, in the great 
feudal hall, a hundred, a thousand, objects of distracting 
interest in view, and a bevy of young ladies expecting 
their immediate presence, and yet when the book of 
legends is once put into his hands, becoming straightway 
oblivious to where he is and what the rest of the company 
await. The man who throws himself, head first, into the 
water, is apt pretty completely to disregard the com- 
panions left upon the shore, as well as to have considerable 
ado in meeting the demands of the new element he has 
entered. Thus dive makes us understand, in the second 
way, the true inwardness of the transaction by which the 
author ignored, and quite uncivilly, his young host, and 
his fellow guests, and lost himself in reading. " Hoard," 
the next figure, interprets to us, in the Beauty mode, how 
he likes what he has found. The squirrel that happens 
to come upon the stores that another squirrel has laid up, 
appropriates them greedily. The spiritual elements in 
hoard are, to prize something as exceedingly covetable, 
and to secure and conceal against purloiners. The first 
of these elements is the one borrowed here. Thus we see, 
if we care to go so far, that dived and hoard are interpre- 
tative as to the degree of the author's fondness for 
chronicles, — like Sir Thomas Malory's, of heroism and 
romance. 

We need perhaps to note, in passing, that the unit of 
construction and cognition in interpretative writing, which 



1NTR0D UCTION XXX11I 

is always generic, is the whole sentiment, while in com- 
ponent figures like those in hand it is the single term. It 
is the smallness of the unit in the case in hand that pre- 
vents mixed metaphor. Raise the unit, and dived into a 
hoard would become both ludicrous and stupid. Ex- 
amples of this sort are not infrequent in The Princess. In 
mix, the last of the three figures, the interpretation 
intended is of the Truth kind. In " mixing with, " all 
component elements, as it were, touch all, and are touched 
by all, though without combining. We mix with a crowd 
when we avoid no one, but brush and jostle the man or 
woman in mean clothing, as well nabobs and great 
dames, and are brushed and jostled also by them in turn. 
The word does its work by causing us to realize, through 
contrast, what it must have meant for this mediaeval lady, 
with all her exclusiveness and delicacy, to come out and 
make herself a comrade with coarse soldiery. She was no 
Joan of Arc, evidently, in extraction. But she led no less 
valiantly her host to victory. 

That a figurative term is used, not for the sake of the 
whole, but of some prominent element in it, is palpable 
enough. It is also palpable that the force that compels 
this borrowing is one of the type-appetencies of the soul, 
seeking to come into possession of its own. The type- 
instincts of Beauty covet their respective forms of beauty ; 
the type-instincts of Truth in the soul crave specific 
revealments and experiences of the True. The soul can- 
not be satisfied except with spiritual aspects of things 
in kind, and with a very high manifestation of these aspects 
in degree. Hence are all figures interpretative of invisible 
verities, or of manifestations of beauty, either in their 



XXX IV 



INTROD VCTION 



nature, or in their intensity. We will now consider figures 
as a means of spiritual interpretation with respect to kind. 
To begin with as simple an instance as possible, we choose 
first the figure in the last of these lines (392-396) from 
Elaine, — where she 

Paus'd by the gateway, standing near the shield 
In silence, while she watch'd their arms far ofT 
Sparkle, until they dipt below the downs. 
If an artist were to paint this scene, he would survey it 
and search it through and through, to find an axis about 
which the whole should turn until the meaning, the 
message, be yielded up to every mind. Tennyson's 
problem is the same, and the figure here used furnishes 
him a means to the same end. We recognize that the 
vital element in dipt is the lowering of the perpendicular, 
making an angle with the ground line less than a right 
angle. This is, of course, most palpable when we use a 
basin to take up water: we tilt the plane of the dish, and 
so draw over the perpendicular that might be erected from 
it. 




As borrowed in the new connection, dipt brings to us 
interpretingly the distant view that came to the eyes of 
Elaine,' — how the lances that, as Lavaine and Lancelot 
have been riding, were wholly vertical, now become aslant 
while the riders, athwart the background of the kindled 
south, go over and below the shoulder of the downs. 1 
1 Cf. the interpretative reference in The Princess (I. 232-234) to 



INTRODUCTION XXXV 

Again, take these lines from Sir Galahad, — 

A gentle sound, an awful light ! 

Three angels bear the Holy Grail : 
With folded feet, in stoles of white, 

On sleeping wings they sail. 

First, in folded, the feet are signified as in the reposeful 
posture paralleled in "folded arms." In sleeping wings 
the figure tells us vitally that these members are unem- 
ployed quite as much as if separate objects, and possessing 
and exercising the power of inner slumber. In they sail 
we catch the experience of the spectacle through seeing 
these angel forms move, passively, like ships, by the effect 
of some agency beyond and without themselves. 

Other suggestive illustrations of figures in kind might 
easily be added. In wounded soul, the borrowed element 
emphasizes the difference between a wound and slighter 
hurts, in that the former must have treatment, since its 
injury is within, and remains till healed. In the figurative 
use of dandle we always borrow the element of ' moving 
about in the arms for the delectation of the object moved. ' 
To dash signifies to 'carry along with all one's energy, then 
throw. ' Hence the use of this word as interpretative of 
bodily action will not depend upon the element of casting 
something by muscular effort of the arms, but of employ- 
ing the gathered momentum of the whole body. It is 

the feminine backhand, in which the Prince entered the three ficti- 
tious names, — 

I sat down and wrote 
In such a hand as when a field of corn 
Bows all its ears before the roaring East. 

By the angle, which the author thus visualizes to us, we get the 
whole effect of the handwriting. 



XXXV 1 



TRODUCTION 



catch the special clement for the sake of 
which a word lik< - been used, without invent 

for the most pan, in the analysis of fig- 
had best be done. 

s interpretative of the degree or int 
iritual quality, a few examples will suffice. We shall 
• H.534-53 m Geraint and Enid : — 

Another, flying from the wrath of Doorm 

Before an ever-fancied arrow, made 

The long way smoke beneath him in his fear. 



transparency 

I 
form 



- 
of r: iing 



odor 



e» 






-'.- _\: ■ — 



evident that the borrowed idea or element h 
fifth one recognized in the diagram. — the coniinu 
the effect, after the instantaneous removal of the ca 
The figure make- bove the road for half 

a mile rising equally over the whole length. It thus 
measures the intensity of the fear and of the flight. 
We will compare this very different figure from (11. 
The Holy Grail : — 

a maiden sprang into the hall 
Crying on help : for all her shining hair 
Was smear'd with earth, and either milky arm 
Red-rent with hooks of bramble, and all she wore 
Torn as a sail that leaves the rope is torn 
In tempest. 



IX PRODUCTION xxxvn 

Is milky arm a logically correct expression ? No, for arm 
is not a liquid. When a logically correct classification 
has been made, the mind experiences satisfaction, because 
a thing has been made known in certain of its ultimate 
relations: the Truth-senses, that is, have been gratified in 
some degree. It the recognition of ultimate relations is 
enlarged in kind, or intensified in degree, the satisfaction 
is proportionably enhanced. Poetical or aesthetic figures 
are a means of enlarging and intensifying such recognition. 
Here the poetic figure milky is highly edifying because the 
ultimate beauty in the flesh-tint of a maiden's arm is 
effectually interpreted to us by way of a higher manifesta- 
tion of the same beauty in another object. The thing 
that comes nearest the pure principle of ultimate beauty 
is made to do duty as the representative of the principle, 
of the beauty itself. The absolute, unconditioned beauty 
that the flesh-hue in this ease postulates, and enables us 
approximately to experience, exists nowhere in this world 
in concrete form. So far as we are concerned, it is merely 
a subjective something, a type-force or " ideal," in the 
human soul. Under its influence Tennyson borrows 
milky as its nearest material exponent, and by that word 
aims to produce a like vision and experience within our- 
selves who read. 

Figures depend upon a certain process of spiritual 
classification. Logical classification is based upon an 
exterior or fundamental characteristic of some sort; on 
some fact of structure, or function, or habit that we can 
see and know continually. Spiritual classification, as 
exhibited in figures, is based upon a principle of truth or 
beauty that can be but spiritually discerned. The reason 



XXXVlll INTRODUCTION 

why man is associated with the bat and the whale, in the 
class Mammalia, everybody understands. We all appre- 
ciate likewise the reason for dividing the races of mankind 
into ' long-skulled ' (dolichocephalous), and ' short-skulled ' 
(brachycephalous) , and for the more recent classification 
into ' smooth-haired ' {lissotriches), and ' woolly-haired ' 
{idotriches). In such divisions among the lower orders as 
1 carnivorous, ' and ' herbivorous, ' we seem to come close 
upon a higher and unseen principle, since the herbivora 
are in general inoffensive outside their own species, while 
the carnivora are universally and remorselessly destructive. 
Yet even here the grounds of distinction are not type- 
differences of inner disposition or endowment, but certain 
notable and invariable differences in the teeth. Traits of 
character, which are forms or manifestations of ultimate 
truth or ultimate beauty, are not much in request when 
we are determining the foundations or fixing the boun- 
daries in a scientific classification. 

In a spiritual classification, on the other hand, the 
common principle is often unapparent, being sometimes 
brought to light only at the utterance of the figure, and 
then as quickly lost from mind. To say that a man 
stands like a rock is not to insist that any human being 
bears the slightest exterior or visual resemblance to a rock. 
It means that we have discerned in the person whose 
action is characterized an ultimate spiritual principle 
called firmness, and interpret its degree by appealing to 
the object that exhibits this quality most palpably. The 
rock resists attack, and is not so much as shaken by all 
the waves that dash against it. When we see the same 
strength, physical or moral, in a man, we are minded to 



INTROD UCTION XXXIX 

apply to him, not the name of the type-quality so much 
as of the most vitally conceived object evincing it. We 
may even say, in a moment of enthusiasm, that the man 
is a rock indeed. To call a man a ' rock ' is not to put 
him definitively in the genus named by that word, but to 
recognize him as, along with the rock, belonging to a 
higher class in which the determining quality is the 
spiritual principle exhibited in both. We cannot identify 
firmness except by firm things, since it is a quality 
existent nowhere, at least in this world, unapplied, alone; 
but we can use one manifestation of it to elucidate 
another. Hence we employ ' rock ' as a very palpable 
measure of the staunchness, the decision displayed by the 
man in question. We do not do this because a ' rock ' is 
the highest known manifestation of resistive power, but 
because, ordinarily, it is the simplest and most familiar of 
physical examples. But no granite ever was that could 
not be broken; while men have lived who, though put 
upon the rack and torn limb from limb, have remained 
unyielding. If there were need to indicate the degree of 
stalwartness of this highest moral sort, we should doubt- 
less say, firm as a 'martyr.' So we use interpretative 
degree-figures according to the loftiness or intensity of the 
quality discerned rather than the effectiveness or avail- 
ability of examples at hand. 

The reason why we put one thing as the spiritual repre- 
sentative of another, in the mode called metaphor, seems 
evident. When we have thoroughly mastered a spiritual 
principle through seeing it in an unmistakable and strik- 
ing instance, we adopt that instance as a convenient 
expression for the common spiritual principle in a new 



xl TNTROD UCT10N 

case. We have seen a child perhaps crying over a broken 
pitcher and spilled milk, or we have at least heard of such 
a thing. The hopelessness and the folly of it, even in 
fancy, are so apparent and sensational that we seem to 
regard the spiritual meaning of the incident more than 
the incident itself. So when we see a grown-up man half 
distracted over the loss from signing some note of hand or 
mortgage unwittingly, or from some like misfortune, we 
experience a lively sense of the same irreparableness and 
the same folly. But we do not tell the man how com- 
pletely we find these type-principles fulfilled. We want 
him to understand that we feel the irreparableness and the 
folly in his case very strongly, yet we say merely, '* There 
is no use in crying over spilled milk." And we run not 
the slightest risk of being misunderstood ; for even if the 
man, by any possibility, have never heard the expression 
used before, he will know that it is not our purpose to 
speak of tear-shedding or milk-spilling, but will recognize 
the principle and get the message more quickly than in 
any literal way. 

A figure interpretative in kind, like the one last con- 
sidered, is a spiritual instance so obvious and transparent 
as to enforce recognition of its inner meaning, to the dis- 
regard of its outer significance as a fact. When the mind 
has learned to detect truths and traits of beauty in the 
opener forms, and to do this readily and completely, it 
will then gradually extend the process to less open mani- 
festations. When we are old enough to recognize modesty 
and shyness in girls and children, so as almost to take 
these qualities for granted at sight, we begin to discern 
the same qualities peering out at us in manifestations 



IN TROD UCTION xl i 

below the human. So we find ourselves seeing and saying, 
by figures of kind, that the lily or the violet is shy, and the 
poppy bold-faced and brazen. In order to interpret to 
ourselves and others the type-qualities we see, we shall 
transfer to the new objects the names of type-qualities 
met with before. When we discern spiritual qualities first 
among mankind, we extend our acquaintance with them 
downward, as just illustrated. When we see them first in 
outside things, — and this happens much more frequently, 
we extend our acquaintance with them upivard, as shown 
by the kind-figures pure, cold, green, smooth, slippery, stiff, 
callow, crabbed, crooked, cross, ruffled, and numberless 
others. There is much oftener occasion to interpret type- 
qualities in men from evincements below the human 
sphere, than the reverse. 

Very evidently, as has been said earlier, the first thing 
to be done in the study of figures is to identify the type- 
principle that in each case underlies them, and for the sake 
of revealing or interpreting which they are respectively 
used. This will always, if the treatise in hand be organic 
and genuine, disclose the' larger interpretative purpose 
which the figures aid. It is of little moment whether we 
observe perfunctorily, and from without the idea, that this 
is a case of simile, and that of metaphor, synecdoche, and 
the like. Neither is it edifying or correct to imagine that 
the simile is, in itself, a weaker and less noble figure than 
metaphor, and to teach men or children so. For the 
right evaluation of figures depends as much upon the 
standard to which things are referred as upon the things 
referable to the standard. When we say " Her face 
makes me think of the Madonna," it is evident that we 



xl 1 1 IN TR OD UC riON 

see in the former some suggestion of the type-quality that 
is more fully evinced in the second of the objects named. 
It will do no good to make the observation that what has 
been said is a variety of the simile, being equivalent to 
the commoner form with " like." The significant thing 
is, the object first mentioned looks towards some other 
object which exhibits the common type-quality more 
potently or completely. In other words, the face first 
named is subordinated to the second, which is thereby 
made the basis or standard of comparison. But, on the 
other hand, if we find ourselves saying " That face, that 
woman is the Madonna, " it is clear that we subordinate, 
in our thought, other evincements of the common'type- 
quality to this one, and so make this the basis of com- 
parison. The type-quality seems to us, for the moment, 
to be here best manifested, and in our enthusiasm at 
seeing an ideal so nearly actualized we affirm that this is 
the Madonna indeed. 

Do we wonder at the inexactness and exaggeration of 
such emotional judgments ? I suppose even the mathe- 
maticians are not without sin in their attempts to express 
like meanings. All spiritual principles are, in relation to 
material facts or things evincing them, infinities. Material 
things are shifting and temporary, but spiritual verities 
and aspects of beauty, unvarying and eternal. Material 
facts, or things involving spiritual principles or qualities, 
are like finite coefficients of infinite values. We may 
represent infinity to our thought as a row of ciphers, pre- 
ceded by the figure 2, and extending from Washington to 
New York. If instead of 2 we were to put 2,000 or 
2,000,000, we should have as the result, of course, an 



INTRODUCTION xlill 

infinity a thousand times, or a million times, greater than 
our first one. Yet, the first conception is really as great, 
so far as our capacity to estimate is concerned, as either 
of the others, and is easier to our thought. We may 
then say, both mathematically and aesthetically, 200 = 
2,00000 , and in our mental operations will use the former 
as a better expression for the latter. So, when we say to 
the farmer who has signed away his property, " There's no 
use crying over spilled milk," we are but substituting a 
smaller fact or coefficient involving a spiritual principle, 
for a less practicable fact evincing the same; we are 
putting 2 co for 2,oooco just as the mathematicians do. 
There is no difference between this instance and the one 
in which we say "This face, this woman is the Madonna, " 
except that in the former we assume the spiritual equality 
of the two manifestations, — while in the latter we affirm 
it; and we probably in a measure recognize that we are in 
this case putting as the large coefficient, so to speak, 
2,000,000, and not 2,000. Here the first is of course a 
figure indicative of kind, the latter, of degree. 

VIII. 

In polite literature, there are higher denominations of 
value than can be foujid in the different forms and 
modes of Interpretative Composition, and there are also 
lower. The highest literary values belong to sentiments 
of the Beautiful and the True never experienced or 
communicated before. 

Is Tennyson a great poet, we must sooner or later ask. 
Some critics and admirers believe that he will live as long 



xliv INTROD UCTION 

as Shakespeare. Others declare him wanting in intel- 
lectual power, and hardly worthy to stand in the second 
class. Is literary worth determined by the quantum of 
interpretation, or by the inherent quality of the spiritual 
meanings which interpretation makes available ? Is 
interpretation the highest service that mind can render 
mind ? 

The great bulk of literature issuing from the press now- 
a-days, and in fact the most of what has been thought and 
said in writing since the invention of letters, has been of 
the sort called Interpretative in these pages. When a 
man sees a principle more clearly than other people, and 
is able to explain it adequately, he is an interpreter 
simply. It often happens that some one in a group of 
friends, or in a parliamentary assembly, serves the whole 
body in this manner. In general, when a man sees an 
old truth in a new light, or from a new point of view, or 
finds a way to present it more clearly or more effectually, 
and so gives his version to the world, he achieves an act 
of interpretation. It is of course essential that each mind 
served have some inkling, some vague but potential 
glimpse of the common truth or beauty. Thus Tyndall, 
and Huxley, and Fiske have been interpreters of the 
doctrine of evolution, and have made the subject clear to 
many minds that could not otherwise have understood it. 
But Goethe, and Browning, and Spencer, and Darwin, 
and others who independently discerned this mode or habit 
of the First Cause, and published it to the world, were 
not Interpreters, but Revealers. A revealer is one who 
makes known new truth, discovered in whatsoever way. 
When he comes upon it in the manner in which Rontgen 



IN TROD UCTION xl V 

found the A'-ray, and in which Pasteur the method of 
immunity by progressive inoculation, he is a revealer by 
experimentation. When he discerns beforehand, in a 
purely mental view, the existence or activity of some great 
principle, he is a revealer by seership. Goethe, who 
divined evolution with some clearness, was a Seer, as for 
like reason was also Browning. 

The highest service that can be rendered to society is 
the revelation of new truth. The discovery of a single 
spiritual principle may revolutionize human thought, and 
human living; and this we have more than once seen 
happen within our generation. When the revelation is 
communicated through the medium of a literary mind, 
and in the form of a communication to polite letters, we 
call the service seership. Literature is really evaluated 
according, first, to the degree of revelatory, and secondly, 
to the degree of interpretative, quality that is exhibited. 
Shakespeare is a seer, and often gives utterance to pro- 
found spiritual principles, both of Beauty and of Truth, 
though sometimes but incidentally to other ends. Brown- 
ing, though to very different purpose and extent, is a seer 
also. Tennyson writes poetry of seership quality in his 
In Memoriam and some other pieces, but scarcely in The 
Princess. Here he merely interprets into definiteness and 
conviction an idea, concerning the sphere and influence 
of woman, that has been long potential to the general 
mind, but uses, as has been shown, a great deal of 
incidental interpretative diction to reach his major 
purpose. 

As the highest function of literature is to reveal, so the 
next highest is to interpret what has been revealed before. 



xlvi 1NTR0D UCTION 

When Emerson says " An institution is but the lengthened 
shadow of one man,"'' he communicates an original or 
revelatory idea of the Truth kind. It is wholly compre- 
hensible, and at once engages our minds to realize it. 
We think of John Harvard, and Elihu Yale, and Ezra 
Cornell, and of Robert Raikes, and a dozen even better 
examples. If we should proceed to write down our 
instances and realizations, for the benefit of others, or if 
Emerson had gone on to such things himself, the result 
would have been pre-eminently what we have called 
Interpretation. To couch trite meanings, as was done 
under the second topic (p. xi), in fresh and edifying forms, 
by use of incidental interpretative diction, is a mode of 
interpretative writing, but one to be distinguished from 
the higher and typical mode here considered. 

The next highest function of literature, after the service 
of interpreting more practicably what has been revealed 
before, is to cast trite or commonplace ideas in edifying 
forms. There is much more literature of this lower inter- 
pretative quality than of any other. Whatever of inner 
difference exists between poetized diction and the involved 
literal or prosaic meanings is to be accredited to this 
interpretative mode. Nothing will better serve to illus- 
trate than what we find at the opening of Paradise Lost. 
Expressed baldly, with no least yielding to the interpreta- 
tive impulse, Milton's first nine lines and a half would 
have amounted to nothing more than this : — 

Concerning man's fall, its cause, and its consequences, 
up to the redemption wrought by Christ, I propose to 
write. 

Here are three points to be touched upon in the inter- 



INTRO D UCTION 



xlvii 



pretative vein : the Fall ; Salvation ; and the declaration 

of a purpose. t The first of these is enlarged by the author, 

in the Truth presentation, thus : — 

Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit 
Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste 
Brought death into the world, and all our woe, 
With loss of Eden. 

The reference to redemption, which is the second point, 

is couched interpretatively thus : — 

till one greater Man 
Restore us, and regain the blissful seat. 

Then, finally, instead of saying ' I now intend to treat 
this theme, ' he borrows the old classic idea of inspiration 
through a specific genius or deity, identifying the influence 
he means by its work in the seership of Moses; and this 
influence he invokes to indite his strains: — 

Sing, heavenly Muse, that on the secret top 
Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire 
That shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed, 
In the beginning how the heavens and earth 
Rose out of Chaos. 

To a Brahmanic or Buddhist reader, no matter how well 
versed in English speech, unless he chanced to be expert 
in Christian theology, this opening passage would be 
unintelligible. Even our native college youths and 
maidens, themselves well-languaged, and well-instructed 
in the lore of the catechism, often find the diction of this 
poem intolerable, and sometimes conclude, after a trial 
or two, that they have not the brains to read it. The 
reason is not merely that they lack a certain spiritual or 
philosophic maturity, — for the literal meanings of Para- 



xlviii INTROD UCTION 

dise Lost, as of all else of Milton's poetry, are throughout 
simple, but that they have not yet learned to kindle at the 
first note of lofty feeling. Unawakened minds must 
always perhaps regard that master-work as a mass of trite 
and exploded notions told in tedious circumlocution. 
On the other hand, there are always book-worms and 
other lovers of literature for its own sake who prefer neat 
and finical paraphrasing to straightforward diction. There 
is possibly, also, another group of readers, with tastes so 
etherialized as to insist that literal and commonplace 
things come to view not as upon the solid plane of fact 
where they belong, but by mirage, solely in the upper air 
of the spiritual. Neither of these is the class of true 
readers for whom Milton, and Shakespeare, and Sophocles, 
and Dante, and Tennyson, and the other masters wrote. 

We cannot account for the style and language of the 
Paradise Lost as merely periphrastic, for the sake of 
elegance, or as ingeniously varied to avoid triteness, but 
only as inspired by a generic sentiment of the sublime. This 
feeling induced in advance by the transcendental propor- 
tions of the theme, by the vast conceptions that from the 
first had gathered about the plan, forced the author to lay 
aside his literal or matter-of-fact vocabulary and manner, 
and admit only such expressions as would befit the lofti- 
ness of his purpose. 1 Thus, at the opening of the second 
paragraph, wishing to ask rhetorically the reason for 
Adam's and Eve's disloyalty, he goes to considerable 
interpretative length in expressing it : — 

1 It may be noted that Paradise Regained lacks the lofty indirect- 
ness of the earlier poem. We shall remember also that the author's 
inspiration in attempting it was very different. 



INTRODUCTION xlix 

Say first, what cause 
Moved our grand parents, in that happy state, 
Favor'd of Heaven so highly, to fall off 
From their Creator, and transgress his will 
For one restraint, lords of the world besides ? 
Who first seduced them to that foul revolt ? 

Any such circumlocution would be intolerable in prose; 
yet a more curt or condensed mode of utterance, under 
these circumstances, would fail of the controlling senti- 
ment in the author's mind. Poetry, whether metrical or 
not, is sometimes palpably a sort of expanded prose, and 
amounts to retelling in spiritual terms something already 
known or assumed to have been already told in the fact 
way. In primitive and rudimentary literature, as for 
instance Homer, there is often a double statement, one 
literal, and one interpretative. We see examples of this 
perhaps most frequently in the Hebrew psalms: — 

When Israel went forth out of Egypt, (Literal) 
The house of Jacob from a people of strange language, (In- 
Judah became his sanctuary, [terp.) 

Israel his dominion. 

O come, let us sing unto the Lord, (Literal) (In- 

Let us make a joyful noise to the Rock of our salvation, [terp.) 

It will thus be found that the supposed parallelisms of the 
Hebrew Scriptures are often not strictly parallel, or 
intended to be merely repetitions of single notions, but 
are rather attempts to express undeveloped residues of 
inner spiritual meaning. 

The literature of mature civilizations is generally too 
intense to permit a literal statement and an interpretative 
repetition of the same idea; a single presentation is made 
to do duty for both clauses. In such a case it is naturally 



1 INTRODUCTION 

the fitter that survives; the principle, which is greater than 
the fact, is put for the principle and the fact together. 
This presentation will, of course, be either of the second 
or the third kind. We need but to turn, for illustration, 
to the opening paragraph already quoted (p. xi) of The 
Holy Grail. It is interesting to note how completely 
literal or " prose " meanings, are evaded, or expressed by 
implication only. The first part of the passage is essen- 
tially equivalent, with the literal and interpretative mean- 
ings unmerged, to this : — 

From wars, or noiseful arms, and from tournaments or 
tilts, and acts of real prowess done therein, Sir Percival, 
whom Arthur and his knights believed to have achieved 
the ideal of purity to which they were sworn, and whom 
hence they called The Pure, had entered an abbey, and 
thus passed into the silent life of prayer, praise, fasting, 
and alms-soliciting. 

The last line of the paragraph, as will have been noted, 
is not interpretative, but ends the whole, though strongly, 
in the prosaic way. Camelot, it must be remembered, is 
not to be taken as merely geographical, but associational 
of great towers, and marvelous riches and beauty. The 
sentence, if completed as begun, would have closed 
doubtless somewhat as thus : — 

and leaving for the cowl 
The helmet in an abbey far away 
From Camelot, — that flower of Arthur's towns, 
Built high and strong and wonderful with magic, 
There yielded, and not much afterwards, his life. 

But there is such a thing as proportion ; and interpretative 
diction consumes more time than the prosaic. Such an 
ending would have made this opening paragraph too long. 



INTROD UCTION 



IX. 



In literary values, below the interpretative presen- 
tations, are to be recognized Conceits, Marinism, and 
Phrasing. 

When a figure is not spiritually true, but used sensa- 
tionally, the result is generally a Conceit, or Marinism. 
In either case the matter is in extreme subjection to the 
manner. Figures are properly used, as has been shown, 
for interpretative ends; that is, as aids to bring to con- 
sciousness inherent type-qualities of Beauty and of the 
True. Conceits are easily distinguished from interpreta- 
tion in that they occasion a larger experience from the 
ingenuity and far-fetched nature of the idea than from the 
interpretative proceeds of the expression as a whole. 
Tennyson, because of his imaginative saneness and 
intensity, seldom admits them to his lines. Perhaps his 
worst offences, at least in The Princess, were committed 
when he wrote (VI. 349-351) 

now and then an echo started up 
And shuddering fled from room to room, and died 
Of fright in far apartments ; 

and when, wishing to hit off the fondness of women — as 
he apparently believed — for ambitious phrases, he allowed 
himself (II. 355-357) to say 

jewels five words long, 

That on the stretched forefinger of all Time 

Sparkle forever. 

Of course these deliverances really interpret nothing, 
either in kind or in degree. The strained and perversely 
intellectual quality of the idea draws away the mind very 



Hi INTROD UCTIOX 

palpably from the real matter of the thought to the 
inorganic manner of the interpretative effort to declare it. 

Next below Conceits comes Marinistic diction, which 
produces effects of a purely sensational character, some- 
times with no least trace of ulterior or contributive mean- 
ing. We are generally reminded of Dryden's Upon the 
Death of Lord Hastings, or Cowley's Mistress, whenever 
Marinism is mentioned. Conceits border close on Marin- 
ism, but are usually distinguishable by their cold and 
glittering intellectual quality. Young's suggestion of 
stars as seal rings upon the fingers of the Almighty is 
properly a conceit, yet from the rank sensationalism of 
the idea, must be accounted Marinistic. Tennyson is 
nowhere chargeable with locutions so extravagant. 

Some critics and many readers are confused as to the 
distinction between certain lower forms of interpretative 
expression, and the lowest of all, which we have called 
Phrasing. It requires more than ordinary penetration, or 
at least unusual training, to discriminate immediately and 
unerringly in such matters. There are men who would 
denounce ' ' a dressy literature, an exaggerated literature, 
and ' ' a highly ornamented, not to say a meretricious 
style, "—meaning almost specifically such work of Tenny- 
son's as exhibits his best interpretative technique, and yet 
would apparently praise lines like these from Wordsworth 

{The Excursion, Book IV.) : — 

I have seen 
A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract 
Of inland ground, applying to his ear 
The convolutions of a smooth-liftp'd shell. 
Here the italic portions are manifestly nothing but phras- 
ing, and phrasing of a pestilently effeminate sort. There 



IN TROD UCTION 1 11 i 

are seemingly but three kinds of phrasing possible, the 
Brainless, the Pedantic, and the Ironic or Burlesque. 
The first species is illustrated in such lisping and affected 
refinements of speech as the dude's residence (' rethi- 
denth ') for the good and gloriously adequate Anglo-Saxon 
ho??ie. Whatever faults of touch Tennyson may finally be 
adjudged to have committed, he is certainly never afraid 
to utter prose with drastic plainness when he has nothing 
better than prose to say. He could nowhere, even in his 
cal lowest days, have written " dwelling on a tract of 
inland ground," when the meaning was to be merely 
inland born or reared. Wordsworth's last line, — 
The convolutions of a smooth-lipp'd shell, 
is a more endurable instance of phrasing proper, yet 
carries upon its face sufficient evidence of its inorganic 
quality. Of course Wordsworth merely wants to indicate 
to us a particular kind of shell, and not at all what the 
shell is or means. An extended expression of this kind is 
legitimate when truly interpretative of some recondite 
spiritual meaning, but never when the purpose is solely, 
as here, to identify an object to the reader's mind. We 
are then reluctantly forced to set Wordsworth's lines just 
quoted in the lowest rank of phrasing. Not that Words- 
worth was puerile, as many of his earliest critics opined 
and declared. He simply lacked the power of virile con- 
ception and of strenuous diction, seen so typically in 
Browning, hence sometimes, as in Peter Bell, wrote de- 
liberately below his level. 

The second, and next higher sort of phrasing, is not 
found much in literature of these days. Now and then 
we hear a college fledgling talk somewhat in the pedantic 



hV INTRODUCTION 

vein. The good sense of the English-speaking race 
revolted from it betimes. Tennyson frequently shows 
signs of his classical training, but seldom or never 
phrases in units so high as the clause or line. Open at 
random, and we are likely to find minor expressions such 
as these : — 

That clad her like an April daffodilly ; 
Her maiden-babe, a double April old ; 
Thro' stately theatres, benched crescent-wise ; 
Nor those horn-handed breakers of the glebe ; 
Melissa shook her doubtful curls. 

But, in judging cases of this kind, we must take care to 
distinguish utterances which do not represent Tennyson, 
but are put in to characterize some mind or mood of his 
creating, from such as he himself would use. Thus, the 
lines some time since quoted from The Princess, — 

Then, ere the silver sickle of that month 
Became her golden shield, 
were pretty surely intended to give the hint, along with 
the ringlets and weird seizures earlier, of the Prince's 
effeminacy and sentimentalism, — which are arbitrarily 
altered before Canto VII. is reached, — at the opening of 
the poem. Again, the Princess's phrasing in 

There sinks the nebulous star we call the sun, — 
is surely not to be taken as other than symptomatic of 
new and undigested learning, sought after not for itself, 
but for the sake of the accomplishment and power of its 
possession. 

As an example of Ironic or Burlesque phrasing, Pope's 
Song by a Person of Quality may be instanced. We shall 
remember that this poem has from the first been conned 



INTROD UCTION lv 

soberly, by many readers, without discovery of its mocking 
purpose. Two stanzas from it will be sufficient here : — ■ 

Fluttering spread thy purple pinions, 

Gentle Cupid, o'er my heart, 
I a slave in thy dominions ; 

Nature must give way to art. 

Mild Arcadians, ever blooming, 
Nightly nodding o'er your flocks, 

See my weary days consuming 
All beneath yon flowery rocks. 

The last two lines, taken in conjunction, should have 
always betrayed the character of the whole. The ' unit ' 
here is the whole poem; or, more correctly, the first two 
stanzas comprise one burden of nonsense, and each of the 
remaining makes up another. To compare with this an 
effort in which the unit is reduced to the single line, 
I shall quote the following supreme illustration from I 
know not what master of literary irony : — 

The light resounds across the hills, 

The crumbling dew-drops fall, 
The rippling rock the moonbeam fills, 

The starlight spreads its pall. 

Now gleams the ruddy sound afar, 

The evening zephyrs glow, 
While from the lake a crimson star 

Sparkles like summer snow. 

The beams of circumambient night 

Have wrapped their shadows round, 
And deep-toned darkness fills the sight 
Of all the world profound. 
Very evidently all such masterpieces of burlesque are 
inspired by the desire to satirize, by exaggeration, the evil 



Ivi INTROD UCTION 

of subordinating and sacrificing sense to sound. Much 
of the first work of versifiers calls for no less drastic 
remedy. 

There are, then, including the literal or fact mode, 
eight denominations of literary values; and there seem to 
be no other generic ones besides these eight. We will 
leave the discussion of poetic diction here with two 
observations, either of which is sufficient for another 
introduction to a poem like -The Princess. We must 
have new truth continually, fresh revealments of the 
Infinite Knowledge, as of the Infinite Beauty that is 
beyond. Since the world began, the inspiration of seer- 
ship has not ceased nor the revelation of the Beautiful 
been denied. We hear men making inquiry of one 
another whether poetry shall not fail. It will fail when 
new knowledge ceases to come into the consciousness of 
men. Without this increase society would perish. We 
cannot be edified with merely the music, the art, the 
literature of our fathers. Again, the spiritual life can 
never consist solely in reading and realizing the revelatory 
and interpretative ideas of others. We must be ourselves 
seers and interpreters, in our degree, if we would live 
indeed. Diligent study of the manner if not the matter of 
the poem now in hand will contribute not a little to this 
end. 



SUGGESTIONS FOR THE STUDY OF THE 
POEM 

It is not the purpose here to provide suggestions with 
reference to the teaching of English masterpieces at large; 
few instructors are in search of counsel on general points 
of methodology. The Princess is, however, unlike most 
other classics in being too intensive for treatment as 
narrative; there is besides in it no history, and but little 
of what may be called life; and the plot is of small im- 
portance. Hence the unit of inquiry in studying it must 
be materially reduced, and results had from less condensed 
poetry must not be looked for. But there are possibilities 
of other work that may be helpfully considered. 

In addition to usual studies of the text much profit may 
be expected from making it the basis of investigation into 
the modes and resources of poetic diction. Nowhere else 
so availably have plain meanings been told by appeal to 
unifying principles or laws. As a topic closely connected 
here, the figurative expressions of Tennyson call for the 
most penetrating study. Some of the metaphors in The 
Princess have been objected to as inorganic and even 
false, apparently because of the assumption that they 
could not have been meant to be interpretative otherwise 
than in kind. It perhaps is true that we use kind-figures 
prevailingly in life, but it is certain that degree-figures 
abound in literature. It is often impossible to reach 

lvii 



Ivni SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY 

Tennyson's meanings fully except by analyzing every in- 
stance of either sort. Nobody has ever used figures to 
better dynamic purpose. 

There is unusual opportunity in The Princess to study 
poetry of the Sublime, which is too little understood. 
Many readers take for granted that a work like The 
Princess must be necessarily poetry of the Beautiful, 
which school folk are too likely to regard as poetry of the 
Pretty. The first step in the development of taste is the 
recognition of ideals. While Tennyson is an exquisite 
interpreter of Beauty, he is demonstrably in The Princess 
very largely a poet of the True. It will be helpful, if time 
can be found for the work, to transfer a few expressions, 
in each lesson, from the second to the third interpretative 
form, and vice versa. Nothing will serve better as a 
rhetorical exercise than to reduce a given paragraph to 
complete prose, and in turn to raise the prosaic expres- 
sions in it to the interpretative level. It is hardly to be 
expected that teachers will rrave at command all the time 
necessary to make an average pupil understand the differ- 
ence between common prose and aesthetic diction like 
Tennyson's. But a few lessons will be of life-long value 
in fixing the boundaries of true poetry as distinguished, 
on the one hand, from mere verse, and from abnormal 
and unreposeful experiments like Maud upon the other. 
The book has been planned to suit various kinds of 
intensive study, from the more hasty and superficial 
secondary reading, to critical college mastery of the 
whole. 

The character-work in The Princess is unusually artistic 
and complete, and is worthy of more attention than is 



SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY lix 

given ordinarily to this part of the study. Every person 
named in the poem is conceived and pictured fully both 
in kind and in degree of traits; and each of these should 
be brought to the recognition of the learner. Some 
inadvertent characterization of the author himself, as well 
as several slips and inconsistencies, will probably be 
brought incidentally to the student's mind. These of 
course constitute no legitimate source of interest, yet 
may be utilized while the class is finding the governing 
sentiment and inspiration of the whole. Only the more 
obvious traits and differences of character have been 
worked into the reach of pupils by the outlines. The 
vision and condensation of the poem will allow consider- 
able supplemental study, if the teacher is minded to 
extend the interpretation. For example, take (II. 250- 
255) this passage: 

' Are you that Psyche,' Florian ask'd, ' to whom, 
In gentler days, your arrow-wounded fawn 
Came flying while you sat beside the well ? 
The creature laid his muzzle in your lap, 
And sobb'd, and you sobb'd with it, and the blood 
Was sprinkled on your kirtle, and you wept.' 

Such pupils as are ordinarily set to read The Princess can 
compass little more than the prosaic or surface meanings 
here, and unless helped will forever miss what the lines 
are meant to picture. Let the instructor reduce the unit 
by submitting an outline like this: ' Was this fawn, when 
it received its hurt, in the primeval forest, or where ? ' 
' Was it struck by a poacher ? ' 'Is it hit with an arrow 
because the time is mediaeval, and there are as yet no 
guns to hunt with ? ' ' What sort of a wound, how deep 



1 X SUGGES TIONS FOR STUDY 

must have been the hurt, merely to sprinkle Psyche's 
gown ? ' Thus will be brought out, and without harm 
pedagogically from the aid, that Psyche's pet must have 
been hit accidentally by the discharge of a toy-weapon in 
the hands of Florian or one of his companions, while they 
were playing rather too excitedly at hunting deer. The 
picture of this idyllic scene in the " lawn" of Florian's 
father becomes vivid and complete, much as it must have 
shaped itself in the author's mind. With this comes also 
a realization of Psyche's domestic and motherly nature, 
as measured by the sympathy which the fawn has hitherto 
enjoyed, and flees now to secure. Similarly, among other 
topics, the eventual fondness between the Princess and the 
Prince's father, merely touched upon in the outlines, 
might be brought into reach of the student's discerning 
powers. 

If the question analyses are used, it is strongly recom- 
mended that at least occasionally the exercises based on 
them should be written out, and the potential meanings 
developed fully by the pupil. It is growing more and 
more clear that the learner who would become waywise 
in literature must proceed pen in hand, and work to the 
bottom of his inchoate impressions. Much good will 
come from having the questions made the basis of oral 
work, provided that time can be taken for discussion of 
the points involved. Finally, in the reviews set upon the 
work, there should be attention paid to the residues of 
meaning left just beneath the surface by the outline aids. 
In all literature teaching, the instructor should see to it 
that the intuitive faculties, which alone spiritually discern, 
are kept in exercise and made to grow. 



SUGGES7V0NS FOR STUDY Ixi 



Supplementary Reading. 

It is probably not well, in most cases, until some direct 
acquaintance with an author has been reached, to put 
into the hands of students criticisms or estimates of his 
work. Young people do not want, and indeed cannot 
easily appropriate, second-hand impressions of personality. 
After they have formed conceptions of their own, they are 
generally glad to have these corrected or re-enforced. 
What is true of excellence or worth of character in outside 
life is largely true of the same in the world of books. 
Some of the most available literature for supplemental 
study of The Princess and of Tennyson should be pre- 
scribed in all thorough courses; and every high school 
where the poem is taught should have, besides a biog- 
raphy of the poet, at least half a dozen of his commen- 
tators. A somewhat larger library of reference would 
include Van Dyke's Poetry of Tennyson ; Stopford A. 
Brooke's Tennyson, his Art and Relation to Modern Life ; 
J. C. Walters' s Studies of the Life, Work and Teaching 
of the Poet Laureate ; Mrs. Anne I. Ritchie's Records 
of Tennyson, Ruskin, Browning ; Elizabeth L. Carey's 
Tennyson : his Homes, his Friends, and his Work ; Morton 
Luce's Handbook to the Works of Alfred Tennyson ; George 
Willis Cooke's Poets and Problems ; E. C. Tainsh's Study 
of the Works of Alfred Tennyson; Edward Dowden's 
Studies in Literature ; Charles Kingsley's Literary Essays ; 
George Brimley's Essays ; Edmund Gosse's Early Vic- 
torian Literature ; and E. C. Stedman's Victorian Poets. 



THE PRINCESS 

PROLOGUE. 

Sir Walter Vivian all a summer's day 
Gave his broad lawns until the set of sun 
Up to the people : thither flock'd at noon 
His tenants, wife and child, and thither half 
The neighboring borough with their Institute 
Of which he was the patron. I was there 
From college, visiting the son, — the son 
A Walter too, — with others of our set, 
Five others : we were seven at Vivian-place. 

And me that morning Walter show'd the house, 
Greek, set with busts : from vases in the hall 
Flowers of all heavens, and lovelier than their names, 
Grew side by side ; and on the pavement lay 
Carv'd stones of the Abbey-ruin in the park, 
Huge Ammonites, and the first bones of Time ; 
And on the tables every clime and age 
Jumbled together ; celts and calumets, 
Claymore and snow-shoe, toys in lava, fans 
Of sandal, amber, ancient rosaries, 
Laborious orient ivory sphere in sphere, 
The curs' d Malayan crease, and battle-clubs 
From the isles of palm : and higher on the walls, 



2 THE PRINCESS [prologue 

Betwixt the monstrous horns of elk and deer, 
His own forefathers' arms and armor hung. 

And ' this.' he said, ' was Hugh's at Agincourt; 25 

And that was old Sir Ralph's at Ascalon : 
A good knight he ! We keep a chronicle 
With all about him,' — which he brought, and I 
Dived in a hoard of tales that dealt with knights, 
Half-legend, half-historic, counts and kings 30 

Who laid about them at their wills and died ; 
And mix'd with these a lady, one that arm'd 
Her own fair head, and sallying thro' the gate, 
Had beat her foes with slaughter from her walls. 

1 O miracle of women,' said the book, 35 

' O noble heart who, being strait-besieg'd 
By this wild king to force her to his wish, 
Nor bent, nor broke, nor shunn'd a soldier's death, 
But now when all was lost or seem'd as lost — 
Her stature more than mortal in the burst 4° 

Of sunrise, her arm lifted, eyes on fire — 
Brake with a blast of trumpets from the gate, 
And, falling on them like a thunderbolt. 
She trampled some beneath her horses' heels, 
And some were whelm' d with missiles of the wall, 45 

And some were push'd with lances from the rock, 
And part were drown'd within the whirling brook: 
O miracle of noble womanhood ! ' 

So sang the gallant glorious chronicle; 
And, I all rapt in this, ' Come out, ' he said, 50 

' To the Abbey: there is Aunt Elizabeth 
And sister Lilia with the rest. ' We went 



*' 



prologue] A MEDLEY 3 

(I kept the book and had my finger in it) 

Down thro' the park. Strange was the sight to me; 

For all the sloping passture murmur'd, sown 55 

With happy faces and with holiday. 

There mov'd the multitude, a thousand heads: 

The patient leaders of their Institute 

Taught them with facts. One rear'd a font of stone 

And drew, from butts of water on the slope, 60 

The fountain of the moment, playing, now 

A twisted snake, and now a rain of pearls, 

Or steep-up spout whereon the gilded ball 

Danc'd like a wisp: and somewhat lower down 

A man with knobs and wires and vials fired 65 

A cannon; Echo answer' d in her sleep 

From hollow fields. And here were telescopes 

For azure views; and there a group of girls 

In circle waited, whom the electric shock 

Dislinked with shrieks and laughter. Round the lake 70 

A little clock-work steamer paddling plied 

And shook the lilies: perch'd about the knolls, 

A dozen angry models jetted steam: 

A petty railway ran. A fire-balloon 

Rose gem-like up before the dusky groves 75 

And dropp'd a fairy parachute and pass'd: 

And there thro' twenty posts of telegraph 

They flash' d a saucy message to and fro 

Between the mimic stations; so that sport 

Went hand in hand with science. Otherwhere 80 

Pure sport: a herd of boys with clamor bowl'd 

And stump'd the wicket; babies roll'd about 

Like tumbled fruit in grass ; and men and maids 

Arrang'd a country dance, and flew thro' light 

And shadow, while the twangling violin 85 



4 THE PRINCESS [prologue 

Struck up with Soldier-laddie, and overhead 

The broad ambrosial aisles of lofty lime 

Made noise with bees and breeze from end to end. 

Strange was the sight and smacking of the time; 
And long we gaz'd, but satiated at length 90 

Came to the ruins. High-arch'd and ivy-clasp'd, 
Of finest Gothic lighter than a fire, 
Thro' one wide chasm of time and frost they gave 
The park, the crowd, the house; but all within 
The sward was trim as any garden lawn. , 95 

And here we lit on Aunt Elizabeth, 
And Lilia with- the rest, and lady friends 
From neighbor seats; and there was Ralph himself, 
A broken statue propp'd against the wall, 
As gay as any. Lilia, wild with sport, 100 

Half child, half woman as she was, had wound 
A scarf of orange round the stony helm, 
And robed the shoulders in a rosy silk, 
That made the old warrior from his ivied nook 
Glow like a sunbeam : near his tomb a feast 105 

Shone, silver-set. About it lay the guests, 
And there we join'd them: then the maiden Aunt 
Took this fair day for text, and from it preach 'd 
An universal culture for the crowd, 

And all things great. But we, unworthier, told no 

Of college: he had climb'd across the spikes, 
And he had squeez'd himself betwixt the bars, 
And he had breath 'd the Proctor's dogs; and one 
Discuss' d his tutor, rough to common men, 
But honeying at the whisper of a lord; 115 

And one the Master, as a rogue in grain 
Veneer' d with sanctimonious theory. 



prologue] A MEDLEY 5 

But while they talk'd, above their heads I saw 
The feudal warrior lady-clad ; which brought 
My book to mind : and opening this I read 120 

Of old Sir Ralph a page or two that rang 
With tilt and tourney. Then the tale of her 
That drove her foes with slaughter from her walls; 
And much I prais'd her nobleness: and ' Where,' 
Ask'd Walter, patting Lilia's head (she lay 125 

Beside him), ' lives there such a woman now ? ' 

Quick answer' d Lilia, ' There are thousands now 
Such women, but convention beats them down. 
It is but bringing up; no more than that. 
You men have done it. How I hate you all! 130 

Ah, were I something great ! I wish I were 
Some mighty poetess, I would shame you then, 
That love to keep us children! O I wish 
That I were some great princess! I would build 
Far off from men a college like a man's, 135 

And I would teach them all that men are taught. 
We are twice as quick! ' And here she shook aside 
The hand that play'd the patron with her curls. 

And one said smiling, ' Pretty were the sight 
If our old halls could change their sex, and flaunt 140 
With prudes for proctors, dowagers for deans, 
And sweet girl-graduates in their golden hair. 
I think they should not wear our rusty gowns, 
But move as rich as Emperor-moths, or Ralph 
Who shines so in the corner. Yet I fear, 145 

If there were many Lilias in the brood, 
However deep you might embower the nest, 
Some boy would spy it. ' 



6 THE PRINCESS [prologue 

At this upon the sward 
She tapp'd her tiny silken-sandal' d foot: 
' That's your light way. But I would make it death 150 
For any male thing but to peep at us. ' 

Petulant she spoke, and at herself she laugh 'd: 
A rosebud set with little wilful thorns, 
And sweet as English air could make her, she. 
But Walter hail'd a score of names upon her, 155 

And ' petty Ogress, ' and ' ungrateful Puss, ' 
And swore he long'd at college, — only long'd, 
All else was well, for she-society. 
They boated and they cricketed; they talk'd 
At wine, in clubs, of art, of politics; 160 

They lost their weeks; they vex'd the souls of deans; 
They rode; they betted; made a hundred friends, 
And caught the blossom of the flying terms, 
But miss'd the mignonette of Vivian-place, 
The little hearth-flower Lilia. Thus he spoke, 165 

Part banter, part affection. 

1 True, ' she said, 
' We doubt not that. O yes, you miss'd us much. 
I '11 stake my ruby ring upon it you did.' 

She held it out; and as a parrot turns 
Up thro' gilt wires a crafty loving eye, 170 

And takes a lady's finger with all care, 
And bites it for true heart and not for harm, 
So he with Lilia' s. Daintily she shriek 'd 
And wrung it. ' Doubt my word again ! ' he said. 
1 Come, listen! Here is proof that you were miss'd: 175 
We seven stay'd at Christmas up to read; 
And there we took one tutor as to read. 



prologue] A MEDLEY J 

The hard-grain'd Muses of the cube and square 

Were out of season : never man, I think, 

So moulder'd in a sinecure as he. 180 

For while our cloisters echo'd frosty feet, 

And our long walks were stripp'd as bare as brooms, 

We did but talk you over, pledge you all 

In wassail ; often, like as many girls — 

Sick for the hollies and the yews of home — 185 

As many little trifling Lilias — play'd 

Charades and riddles as at Christmas here, 

And What 's my Thought, and When and Where and How, 

And often told a tale from mouth to mouth 

As here at Christmas. ' 

She remember' d that. 190 

A pleasant game, she thought. She liked it more 
Than magic music, forfeits, all the rest. 
But these — what kind of tales did men tell men, 
She wonder'd, by themselves ? 

A half-disdain 
Perch'd on the pouted blossom of her lips; 195 

And Walter nodded at me: 'He began, 
The rest would follow, each in turn; and so 
We forg'd a sevenfold story. Kind ? what kind ? 
Chimeras, crotchets, Christmas solecisms, 
Seven-headed monsters only made to kill 200 

Time by the fire in winter. ' 

' Kill him now, 
The tyrant ! kill him in the summer too, ' 
Said Lilia ; ' Why not now ? ' the maiden Aunt. 
' Why not a summer's as a winter's tale ? 
A tale for summer as befits the time, 205 

And something it should be to suit the place, 
Heroic, for a hero lies beneath, 



8 THE PRINCESS [prologue 

Grave, solemn ! ' 

Walter warp'd his mouth at this 
To something so mock-solemn, that I laugh 'd 
And Lilia woke with sudden-shrilling mirth 210 

An echo like a ghostly woodpecker, 
Hid in the ruins; till the maiden Aunt 
(A little sense of wrong had touch" d her face 
With color) turn'd to me with ' As you will; 
Heroic if you will, or what you will, 215 

Or be yourself your hero if you will. ' 

' Take Lilia, then, for heroine/ clamor'd he, 
' And make her some great Princess, six feet high, 
Grand, epic, homicidal ; and be you 
The Prince to win her! ' 

- Then follow me, the Prince, ' 220 
I answer' d, ' each be hero in his turn! 
Seven and yet one, like shadows in a dream. 
Heroic seems our Princess as required, — 
But something made to suit with time and place, 
A Gothic ruin and a Grecian house, 225 

A talk of college and of ladies' rights, 
A feudal knight in silken masquerade, 
And, yonder, shrieks and strange experiments 
For which the good Sir Ralph had burnt them all, — 
This were a medley ! We should have him back 230 

Who told the " Winter's Tale " to do it for us. 
No matter : we will say whatever comes; 
And let the ladies sing us, if they will, 
From time to time, some ballad or a song 
To give us breathing-space. ' 

So I began, 235 

And the rest follow'd; and the women sang 



canto i] A MEDLEY 9 

Between the rougher voices of the men, 
Like linnets in the pauses of the wind : 
And here I give the story and the songs. 

I. 

A Prince I was, blue-eyed, and fair in face, 
Of temper amorous, as the first of May, 
With lengths of yellow ringlet, like a girl ; 
For on my cradle shone the Northern star. 

There liv'd an ancient legend in our house. 5 

Some sorcerer, whom a far-off grandsire burnt 
Because he cast no shadow, had foretold, 
Dying, that none of all our blood should know 
The shadow from the substance, and that one 
Should come to fight with shadows and to fall ; 10 

For so, my mother said, the story ran. 
And, truly, waking dreams were, more or less, 
An old and strange affection of the house. 
Myself too had weird seizures, Heaven knows what. 
On a sudden in the midst of men and day, 15 

And while I walk'd and talk'd as heretofore, 
I seem'd to move among a world of ghosts, 
And feel myself the shadow of a dream. 
Our great court-Galen pois'd his gilt-head cane, 
And paw'd his beard, and mutter'd ' catalepsy.' 20 

My mother pitying made a thousand prayers; 
My mother was as mild as any saint, 
Half-canoniz'd by all that look'd on her, 
So gracious was her tact and tenderness. 
But my good father thought a king a king. 25 

He card not for the affection of the house. 



10 THE PRINCESS [canto i 

He held his sceptre like a pedant's wand 
To Lash offence, and with long arms and hands 
Reach 'd out, and pick'd offenders from the mass 
For judgment. 

Now it chanc'd that I had been, 30 

While life was yet in bud and blade, betroth 'd 
To one, a neighboring Princess: she to me 
Was proxy-wedded with a bootless calf 
At eight years old; and still from time to time 
Came murmurs of her beauty from the South, 35 

And of her brethren, youths of puissance. 
And still I wore her picture by my heart, 
And one dark tress; and all around them both 
Sweet thoughts would swarm as bees about their queen. 

But when the days drew nigh that I should wed, 40 
My father sent ambassadors with furs 
And jewels, gifts, to fetch her. These brought back 
A present, a great labor of the loom; 
And therewithal an answer vague as wind. 
Besides, they saw the king; he took the gifts. 45 

He said there was a compact ; that was true. 
But then she had a will : was he to blame ? 
And maiden fancies; lov'd to live alone 
Among her women; certain, would not we^. 

That morning in the presence room I stood 50 

With Cyril and with Florian, my two friends; 
The first, a gentleman of broken means 
(His father's fault) but given to starts and bursts 
Of revel; and the last, my other heart, 
And almost my half-self, for still we mov'd 55 

Together, twinn'd as horse's ear and eye. 



canto i] A MEDLEY II 

Now, while they spake, I saw my father's face 
Grow long and troubled like a rising moon, 
Inflamed with wrath. He started on his feet, 
Tore the king's letter, snow'd it down, and rent 60 

The wonder of the loom thro' warp and woof 
From skirt to skirt; and at the last he sware 
That he would send a hundred thousand men, 
And bring her in a whirlwind. Then he chew'd 
The thrice-turn'd cud of wrath, and cook'd his spleen, 65 
Communing with his captains of the war. 

At last I spoke : ' My father, let me go. 
It cannot be but some gross error lies 
In this report, this answer of a king, 

Whom all men rate as kind and hospitable. 70 

Or, maybe, I myself, my bride once seen, 
Whate'er my grief to find her less than fame, 
May rue the bargain made. ' And Florian said : 
1 I have a sister at the foreign court 

Who moves about the Princess; she, you know, 75 

Who wedded with a nobleman from thence. 
He, dying lately, left her, as I hear, 
The lady of three castles in that land. 
Thro' her this matter might be sifted clean. ' 
And Cyril whisper' d, ' Take me with you too.' 80 

Then laughing, ' What, if these weird seizures come 
Upon you in those lands, and no one near 
To point you out the shadow from the truth ! 
Take me. I '11 serve you better in a strait; 
I grate on rusty hinges here.' But ' No! ' 85 

Roar'd the rough king, ' you shall not! We ourself 
Will crush her pretty maiden fancies dead 
In iron gauntlets. Break the council up. ' 



12 THE PRINCESS [canto I 

But when the council broke, I rose and pass'd 
Thro' the wild woods that hung about the town; 90 

Found a still place, and pluck'd her likeness out; 
Laid it on flowers, and watch 'd it lying bathed 
In the green gleam of dewy-tassell'd trees. 
What were those fancies ? Wherefore break her troth ? 
Proud look'd the lips. But while I meditated, 95 

A wind arose and rush'd upon the South, 
And shook the songs, the whispers, and the shrieks 
Of the wild woods together; and a Voice 
Went with it, ' Follow, follow, thou shalt win.' 

Then, ere the silver sickle of that month 100 

Became her golden shield, I stole from court 
With Cyril and with Florian, unperceiv'd, 
Cat-footed thro' the town and half in dread 
To hear my father's clamor at our backs 
With ' Ho ! ' from some bay-window shake the night. 105 
But all was quiet. From the bastion 'd walls, 
Like threaded spiders, one by one, we dropp'd 
And flying reach'd the frontier. Then we cross'd 
To a livelier land ; and so by tilth and grange, 
And vines, and blowing bosks of wilderness, no 

We gain'd the mother-city thick with towers, 
And in the imperial palace found the king. 

His name was Gama: crack'd and small his voice, 
But bland the smile that like a wrinkling wind 
On glassy water drove his cheek in lines; "5 

A little dry old man, without a star, 
Not like a king. Three days he feasted us, 
And on the fourth I spake of why we came, 
And my betroth' d. ' You do us, Prince,' he said, 



canto ij A MEDLEY 1 3 

Airing a snowy hand and signet gem, 120 

' All honor. We remember love ourselves 

In our sweet youth. There did a compact pass, 

Long summers back, a kind of ceremony, — 

I think the year in which our olives fail'd. 

I would you had her, Prince, with all my heart, 125 

With my full heart. But there were widows here, 

Two widows, Lady Psyche, Lady Blanche. 

They fed her theories, in and out of place 

Maintaining that with equal husbandry 

The woman were an equal to the man. 130 

They harp'd on this; with this our banquets rang; 

Our dances broke and buzz'd in knots of talk; 

Nothing but this : my very ears were hot 

To hear them. Knowledge, so my daughter held, 

Was all in all. They had but been, she thought, 135 

As children; they must lose the child, assume 

The woman. Then, Sir, awful odes she wrote, 

Too awful, sure, for what they treated of, — 

But all she is and does is awful ; odes 

About this losing of the child; and rhymes 140 

And dismal lyrics, prophesying change 

Beyond all reason. These the women sang; 

And they that know such things — I sought but peace; 

No critic I — would call them masterpieces. 

They master' d me. At last she begg'd a boon, 145 

A certain summer-palace which I have 

Hard by your father's frontier. I said no, 

Yet being an easy man, gave it; and there, 

All wild to found a University 

For maidens, on the spur she fled. And more 150 

We know not, — only this: they see no men, 

Not even her brother Arac, nor the twins 



14 THE PRINCESS [canto i 

Her brethren, tho' they love her, look upon her 

As on a kind of paragon. And I 

(Pardon me saying it) were much loth to breed i55 

Dispute betwixt myself and mine. But since 

(And I confess with right) you think me bound 

In some sort, I can give you letters to her; 

And yet, to speak the truth, I rate your chance 

Almost at naked nothing.' 

Thus the king. 160 

And I, tho' nettled that he seem'd to slur 
With garrulous ease and oily courtesies 
Our formal compact, yet, not less (all frets 
But chafing me on fire to find my bride) 
Went forth again with both my friends. We rode 165 
Many a long league back to the North. At last 
From hills, that look'd across a land of hope, 
W T e dropp'd with evening on a rustic town 
Set in a gleaming river's crescent-curve, 
Close at the boundary of the liberties; i7° 

There, enter' d an old hostel, call'd mine host 
To council, plied him with his richest wines, 
And show'd the late-writ letters of the king. 

He with a long low sibilation, stared 
As blank as death in marble; then exclaim'd, i75 

Averring it was clear against all rules 
For any man to go. But as his brain 
Began to mellow, ' If the king, ' he said, 
' Had given us letters, was he bound to speak ? 
The king would bear him out; ' and at the last — 180 

The summer of the vine in all his veins — 
' No doubt that we might make it worth his while. 
She once had pass'd that way; he heard her speak. 



canto i] A MEDLEY 1$ 

She scared him. Life ! he never saw the like : 

She look'd as grand as doomsday and as grave. 185 

And he, he reverenc'd his liege-lady there. 

He always made a point to post with mares; 

His daughter and his housemaid were the boys. 

The land, he understood, for miles about 

Was till'd by women. All the swine were sows, 19° 

And all the dogs ' — 

But while he jested thus, 
A thought flash'd thro' me which I clothed in act, 
Remembering how we three presented Maid, 
Or Nymph, or Goddess, at high tide of feast, 
In masque or pageant at my father's court. 195 

We sent mine host to purchase female gear. 
He brought it, and himself, a sight to shake 
The midriff of despair with laughter, holp 
To lace us up, till each in maiden plumes 
We rustled. Him we gave a costly bribe 200 

To guerdon silence, mounted our good steeds, 
And boldly ventur'd on the liberties. 

We follow' d up the river as we rode, 
And rode till midnight, when the college lights 
Began to glitter firefly-like in copse 205 

And linden alley. Then we pass'd an arch, 
Whereon a woman-statue rose with wings 
From four wing'd horses dark against the stars; 
And some inscription ran along the front, 
But deep in shadow. Further on we gain'd 210 

A little street half garden and half house, 
But scarce could hear each other speak for noise 
Of clocks and chimes, like silver hammers falling 
On silver anvils, and the splash and stir 



1 6 THE PRINCESS [canto i 

Of fountains spouted up and showering down 215 

In meshes of the jasmine and the rose; 
And all about us peal'd the nightingale, 
Rapt in her song, and careless of the snare. 

There stood a bust of Pallas for a sign, 
By two sphere lamps blazon' d like Heaven and Earth 220 
With constellation and with continent, 
Above an entry. Riding in, we call'd. 
A plump-arm' d ostleress and a stable wench 
Came running at the call, and help'd us down. 
Then stepp'd a buxom hostess forth, and sail'd, 225 

Full-blown, before us into rooms which gave 
Upon a pillar'd porch, the bases lost 
In laurel. Her we ask'd of that and this, 
And who were tutors. ' Lady Blanche, ' she said, 
' And Lady Psyche. ' ' Which was prettiest, 230 

Best-natur'd ? ' ' Lady Psyche.' ' Hers are we,' 
One voice, we cried; and I sat down and wrote, 
In such a hand as when a field of corn 
Bows all its ears before the roaring East 

' Three ladies of the Northern empire pray 235 

Your Highness would enroll them with your own, 
As Lady Psyche's pupils.' 

This I seal'd: 
The seal was Cupid bent above a scroll, 
And o'er his head Uranian Venus hung, 
And rais'd the blinding bandage from his eyes. 240 

I gave the letter to be sent with dawn ; 
And then to bed, where half in doze I seem'd 
To float about a glimmering night, and watch 
A full sea glazed with muffled moonlight swell 
On some dark shore just seen that it was rich. 245 



canto n] A MEDLEY 17 

As thro' the land at eve we went, 

And pluck'd the ripen' d ears, 
We fell out, my wife and I, 
we fell out I know not why, 

And kiss'd again with tears. 
And blessings on the falling out 

That all the more endears, 
When we fall out with those we love 

And kiss again with tears ! 
For when we came where lies the child 

We lost in other years, 
There above the little grave, 
O there above the little grave, 

We kiss'd again with tears. 



II. 

At break of day the College Portress came. 
She brought us Academic silks, in hue 
The lilac, with a silken hood to each, 
And zoned with gold; and now when these were on, 
And we as rich as moths from dusk cocoons, 5 

She, curtseying her obeisance, let us know 
The Princess Ida waited. Out we paced, 
I first, and following thro' the porch that sang 
All round w T ith laurel, issu'd in a court 
Compact of lucid marbles, boss'd with lengths 10 

Of classic frieze, with ample awnings gay 
Betwixt the pillars, and with great urns of flowers. 
The Muses and the Graces, group' d in threes, 
Enring'd a billowing fountain in the midst; 
And here and there on lattice edges lay 15 

Or book or lute. But hastily we pass'd, 
And up a flight of stairs into the hall. 



1 8 THE PRINCESS [canto ii 

There at a board by tome and paper sat, 
With two tame leopards couch'd beside her throne, 
All beauty compass' d in a female form, 20 

The Princess; liker to the inhabitant 
Of some clear planet close upon the Sun, 
Than our man's earth: such eyes were in her head, 
And so much grace and power, breathing down 
From over her arch'd brows, with every turn 25 

Lived thro' her to the tips of her long hands, 
And to her feet. She rose her height, and said : 

' We give you welcome. Not without redound 
Of use and glory to yourselves ye come, 
The first-fruits of the stranger. Aftertime, * 30 

And that full voice which circles round the grave, 
Will rank you nobly, mingled up with me. — 
What! are the ladies of your land so tall ? ' 
' We of the court, ' said Cyril. ' From the court ! ' 
She answer'd. ' Then ye know the Prince ? ' And he: 
! The climax of his age! As tho' there were 36 

One rose in all the world, your Highness that. 
He worships your ideal. ' She replied : 
' We scarcely thought in our own hall to hear 
This barren verbiage, current among men, 40 

Light coin, the tinsel clink of compliment. 
Your flight from out your bookless wilds would seem 
As arguing love of knowledge and of power; 
Your language proves you still the child. Indeed, 
We dream not of him. When we set our hand 45 

To this great work, we purpos'd with ourself 
Never to wed. You likewise will do well, 
Ladies, in entering here, to cast and fling 
The tricks which make us toys of men, that so, 



canto n] A MEDLEY 1 9 

Some future time, if so indeed you will, 50 

You may with those self-styl'd our lords ally 
Your fortunes, justlier balanc'd, scale with scale.' 

At those high words, we, conscious of ourselves, 
Perus'd the matting. Then an officer 
Rose up, and read the statutes, such as these: 55 

Not for three years to correspond with home; 
Not for three years to cross the liberties; 
Not for three years to speak with any men ; 
And many more, which hastily subscribed, 
We enter' d on the boards. And ' Now,' she cried, 60 
1 Ye are green wood, see ye warp not. Look, our hall ! 
Our statues ! — Not of those that men desire, 
Sleek Odalisques, or oracles of mode, 
Nor stunted squaws of West or East; but she 
That taught the Sabine how to rule, and she 65 

The foundress of the Babylonian wall, 
The Carian Artemisia strong in war, 
The Rhodope that built the pyramid, 
Clelia, Cornelia, with the Palmyrene 

That fought Aurelian, and the Roman brows 70 

Of Agrippina. Dwell with these, and lose 
Convention, since to look on noble forms 
Makes noble thro' the sensuous organism 
That which is higher. O lift your natures up ; 
Embrace our aims; work out your freedom. Girls, 75 
Knowledge is now no more a fountain seal'd! 
Drink deep, until the habits of the slave, 
The sins of emptiness, gossip and spite 
And slander, die. Better not be at all 
Than not be noble. Leave us; you may go, 80 

To-day the Lady Psyche will harangue 



20 THE PRINCESS [canto ii 

The fresh arrivals of the week before; 
For they press in from all the provinces, 
And fill the hive. ' 

She spoke, and bowing waved 
Dismissal. Back again we cross' d the court 85 

To Lady Psyche's. As we enter' d in, 
There sat along the forms, like morning doves 
That sun their milky bosoms on the thatch, 
A patient range of pupils; she herself 
Erect behind a desk of satin-wood, 9° 

A quick brunette, well-moulded, falcon-eyed, 
And on the hither side, or so she look'd, 
Of twenty summers. At her left, a child, 
In shining draperies, headed like a star, 
Her maiden babe, a double April old, 95 

Aglaia slept. We sat. The Lady glanced. 
Then Florian, but no livelier than the dame 
That whisper' d ' Asses' ears ' among the sedge, — 
1 My sister.' ' Comely, too, by all that "s fair,' 
Said Cyril. ' O hush, hush! ' and she began. 100 

' This world was once a fluid haze of light, 
Till toward the centre set the starry tides, 
And eddied into suns, that wheeling cast 
The planets: then the monster, then the man; 
Tattoo' d or woaded, winter-clad in skins, 105 

Raw from the prime, and crushing down his mate; 
As j r et we find in barbarous isles, and here 
Among the lowest. ' 

Thereupon she took 
A bird's-eye view of all the ungracious past; 
Glanc'd at the legendary Amazon no 

As emblematic of a nobler age; 



canto n] A MEDLEY 21 

Apprais'd the Lycian custom, spoke of those 

That lay at wine with Lar and Lucumo; 

Ran down the Persian, Grecian, Roman lines 

Of empire, and the woman's state in each, 115 

How far from just; till warming with her theme 

She fulmin'd out her scorn of laws Salique 

And little-footed China, touch'd on Mahomet 

With much contempt, and came to chivalry; 

When some respect, however slight, was paid 120 

To woman, superstition all awry. 

However, then commenced the dawn: a beam 

Had slanted forward, falling in a land 

Of promise; fruit would follow. Deep, indeed, 

Their debt of thanks to her who first had dared 125 

To leap the rotten pales of prejudice, 

Disyoke their necks from custom, and assert 

None lordlier than themselves but that which made 

Woman and man. She had founded ; they must build. 

Here might they learn whatever men were taught; 130 

Let them not fear. Some said their heads were less. 

Some men's were small; not they the least of men; 

For often fineness compensated size. 

Besides the brain was like the hand, and grew 

With using; thence the man's, if more was more. 135 

He took advantage of his strength to be 

First in the field. Some ages had been lost; 

But woman ripen 'd earlier, and her life 

Was longer. And albeit their glorious names 

Were fewer, scatter' d stars, yet since in truth 14° 

The highest is the measure of the man, 

And not the Kaffir, Hottentot, Malay, 

Nor those horn-handed breakers of the glebe, 

But Homer, Plato, Verulam: even so 



22 THE PRINCESS [canto II 

With woman : and in arts of government i45 

Elizabeth and others; arts of war 

The peasant Joan and others ; arts of grace 

Sappho and others vied with any man; 

And, last not least, she who had left her place, 

And bow'd her state to them, that they might grow 150 

To use and power on this Oasis, lapp'd 

In the arms of leisure, sacred from the blight 

Of ancient influence and scorn. 

At last 
She rose upon a wind of prophecy 

Dilating on the future: ' Everywhere 155 

Two heads in council, two beside the hearth, 
Two in the tangled business of the world, 
Two in the liberal offices of life, 
Two plummets dropp'd for one, to sound the abyss 
Of science and the secrets of the mind ; 160 

Musician, painter, sculptor, critic, more; 
And everywhere the broad and bounteous Earth 
Should bear a double growth of those rare souls, 
Poets, whose thoughts enrich the blood of the world. ' 

She ended here, and beckon 'd us. The rest 165 

Parted; and, glowing full-faced welcome, she 
Began to address us, and was moving on 
In gratulation, till as when a boat 
Tacks and the slacken'd sail flaps, all her voice 
Faltering and fluttering in her throat, she cried, 170 

' My brother! ' ' Well, my sister.' ' O,' she said, 
' What do you here ? And in this dress ? And these ? 
Why, who are these ? A wolf within the fold ! 
A pack of wolves ! The Lord be gracious to me ! 
A plot, a plot, a plot, to ruin all! ' 175 



canto n] A MEDLEY 2$ 

' No plot, no plot,' he answer' d. ' Wretched boy, 

How saw you not the inscription on the gate, 

Let no man enter in on pain of death ? ' 

' And if I had,' he answer' d, ' who could think 

The softer Adams of your Academe, 180 

sister, Sirens tho' they be, were such 

As chanted on the blanching bones of men ? ' 

' But you will find it otherwise, ' she said. 

' You jest: ill jesting with edge-tools! My vow 

Binds me to speak, and O that iron will, 185 

That axelike edge unturnable, our Head, 

The Princess! ' ' Well then, Psyche, take my life, 

And nail me like a weasel on a grange 

For warning. Bury me beside the gate, 

And cut this epitaph above my bones : 190 

Here lies a brother by a sister slain, 

All for the common good of womankind. 1 

' Let me die too, ' said Cyril, ' having seen 

And heard the Lady Psyche. ' 

I struck in. 
' Albeit so mask'd, Madam, I love the truth. 195 

Receive it; and in me behold the Prince 
Your countryman, affianc'd years ago 
To the Lady Ida. Here, for here she was, 
And thus (what other way was left ?) I came. ' 
' O Sir, O Prince, I have no country, none ; 200 

If any, this; but none. Whate'er I was 
Disrooted, what I am is grafted here. 
Affianc'd, Sir ? love-whispers may not breathe 
Within this vestal limit, and how should I, 
Who am not mine, say, live. The thunderbolt 205 

Hangs silent; but prepare. I speak; it falls.' 

1 Yet pause, ' I said. ' For that inscription there, 



24 THE PRINCESS [canto II 

I think no more of deadly lurks therein, 

Than in a clapper clapping in a garth, 

To scare the fowl from fruit. If more there be, 210 

If more and acted on, what follows ? War; 

Your own work marr'd: for this your Academe, 

Whichever side be victor, in the halloo 

Will topple to the trumpet down, and pass 

With all fair theories only made to gild 215 

A stormless summer.' ' Let the Princess judge 

Of that,' she said. ' Farewell, Sir — and to you. 

I shudder at the sequel, but I go. ' 

' Are you that Lady Psyche, ' I rejoin'd, 
1 The fifth in line from that old Florian, . 220 

Yet hangs his portrait in my father's hall 
(The gaunt old baron with his beetle brow 
Sun-shaded in the heat of dusty fights) 
As he bestrode my grandsire, when he fell, 
And all else fled ? We point to it, and we say, 225 

The loyal warmth of Florian is not cold, 
But branches current yet in kindred veins. ' 
' Are you that Psyche,' Florian added; ' she 
With whom I sang about the morning hills, 
Flung ball, flew kite, and raced the purple fly, 230 

And snared the squirrel of the glen ? Are you 
That Psyche, wont to bind my throbbing brow, 
To smooth my pillow, mix the foaming draught 
Of fever, tell me pleasant tales, and read 
My sickness down to happy dreams ? Are you 235 

That brother-sister Psyche, both in one ? 
You were that Psyche, but what are you now ? ' 
1 You are that Psyche, ' Cyril said, ' for whom 
I would be that forever which I seem, 



canto 11] A MEDLEY 25 

Woman, if I might sit beside your feet, 240 

And glean your scatter'd sapience.' 

Then once more, 
1 Are you that Lady Psyche, ' I began, 
' That on her bridal morn before she pass'd 
From all her old companions, when the king 
Kiss'd her pale cheek, declar'd that ancient ties 245 

Would still be dear beyond the southern hills; 
That were there any of our people there 
In want or peril, there was one to hear 
And help them ? Look ! for such are these and I. ' 
' Are you that Psyche,' Florian ask'd, ' to whom, 250 

In gentler days, your arrow-wounded fawn 
Came flying while you sat beside the well ? 
The creature laid his muzzle on your lap, 
And sobb'd, and you sobb'd with it, and the blood 
Was sprinkled on your kirtle, and you wept. 255 

That was fawn's blood, not brother's, yet you wept. 

by the bright head of my little niece, 

You were that Psyche, and what are you now ? ' 

1 You are that Psyche, ' Cyril said again, 

1 The mother of the sweetest little maid 260 

That ever crow'd for kisses.' 

' Out upon it! ' 
She answer' d, ' peace! And why should I not play 
The Spartan Mother with emotion, be 
The Lucius Junius Brutus of my kind ? 
Him you call great. He for the common weal, 265 

The fading politics of mortal Rome, 
As I might slay this child, if good need were, 
Slew both his sons: and I, shall I, on whom 
The secular emancipation turns 
Of half this world, be swerv'd from right to save 270 



26 THE PRINCESS [canto ii 

A prince, a brother ? A little will I yield. 

Best so, perchance, for us, and well for you. 

hard, when love and duty clash ! I fear 

My conscience will not count me fleckless; yet — 

Hear my conditions : promise (otherwise 275 

You perish) as you came, to slip away 

To-day, to-morrow, soon. It shall be said, 

These women were too barbarous, would not learn; 

They fled, who might have shamed us. Promise, all.' 

What could we else, we promis'd each; and she, 280 
Like some wild creature newly-caged, commenc'd 
A to-and-fro, so pacing till she paus'd 
By Florian; holding out her lily arms 
Took both his hands, and smiling faintly said : 
' I knew you at the first. Tho' you have grown 2S5 

You scarce have alter' d. I am sad and glad 
To see you, Florian. / give thee to death, 
My brother! It was duty spoke, not I. 
My needful seeming harshness, pardon it. 
Our mother, is she well ? ' 

With that she kiss'd 290 

His forehead, then, a moment after, clung 
About him, and betwixt them blossom' d up 
From out a common vein of memory 
Sweet household talk, and phrases of the hearth, 
And far allusion, till the gracious dews 295 

Began to glisten and to fall. And while 
They stood, so rapt, we gazing, came a voice, 
' I brought a message here from Lady Blanche. ' 
Back started she, and turning round we saw 
The Lady Blanche's daughter where she stood. 300 

Melissa, with her hand upon the lock, 



canto 11] A MEDLEY 2J 

A rosy blonde, and in a college gown, 

That clad her like an April daffodilly 

(Her mother's color), with her lips apart, 

And all her thoughts as fair within her eyes, 305 

As bottom agates seen to wave and float 

In crystal currents of clear morning seas. 

So stood that same fair creature at the door. 
Then Lady Psyche, ' Ah — Melissa — you ! 
You heard us ? ' And Melissa, ' O pardon me! 310 

I heard, I could not help it, did not wish. 
But, dearest Lady, pray you fear me not, 
Nor think I bear that heart within my breast, 
To give three gallant gentlemen to death. ' 
' I trust you,' said the other, ' for we two 315 

Were always friends, none closer, elm and vine; 
But yet your mother's jealous temperament — 
Let not your prudence, dearest, drowse, or prove 
The Dana'id of a leaky vase, for fear 

This whole foundation ruin, and I lose 320 

My honor, these their lives.' ' Ah, fear me not,' 
Replied Melissa; ' no — I would not tell, 
No, not for all Aspasia's cleverness, 
No, not to answer, Madam, all those hard things 
That Sheba came to ask of Solomon. ' 325 

' Be it so, ' the other, ' that we still may lead 
The new light up, and culminate in peace, 
For Solomon may come to Sheba yet. ' 
Said Cyril, ' Madam, he the wises^ man 
Feasted the woman wisest then, in halls 330 

Of Lebanonian cedar; nor should you 
(Tho' Madam, you should answer, we would ask) 
Less welcome find among us, if you came 



28 THE PRINCESS [canto ii 

Among us, debtors for our lives to you, 

Myself for something more. ' He said not what, 335 

But ' Thanks, ' she answer' d, ' go. We have been too long 

Together. Keep your hoods about the face; 

They do so that affect abstraction here. 

Speak little; mix not with the rest; and hold 

Your promise. All, I trust, may yet be well. ' 340 

We turn'd to go, but Cyril took the child, 
And held her round the knees against his waist, 
And blew the swollen cheek of a trumpeter, 
While Psyche watch 'd them, smiling, and the child 
Push'd her flat hand against his face and laugh' d; 345 
And thus our conference closed. 

And then we stroll 'd 
For half the day thro' stately theatres 
Bench 'd crescent-wise. In each we sat, we heard 
The grave Professor. On the lecture slate 
The circle rounded under female hands 35° 

W r ith flawless demonstration. Follow' d then 
A classic lecture, rich in sentiment, 
With scraps of thunderous epic lilted out 
By violet-hooded Doctors, elegies 

And quoted odes, and jewels five-words-long 355 

That on the stretch 'd forefinger of all Time 
Sparkle forever. Then we dipp'd in all 
That treats of whatsoever is, the state, 
The total chronicles of man, the mind, 
The morals, something of the frame, the rock, 360 

The star, the bird, the fish, the shell, the flower, 
Electric, chemic laws, and all the rest, 
And whatsoever can be taught and known; 
Till like three horses that have broken fence, 



canto ii] A MEDLEY ^9 

And glutted all night long breast-deep in corn, 3&5 

We issu'd gorg'd with knowledge, and I spoke: 

' Why, Sirs, they do all this as well as we.' 

' They hunt old trails/ said Cyril, ' very well; 

But when did woman ever yet invent ? ' 

' Ungracious! ' answer'd Florian. ' Have you learn'd 370 

No more from Psyche's lecture, you that talk'd 

The trash that made me sick, and almost sad ? ' 

' O trash, ' he said, ' but with a kernel in it ! 

Should I not call her wise who made me wise ? 

And learnt ? I learnt more from her in a flash 375 

Than if my brainpan were an empty hull, 

And every Muse tumbled a science in. 

A thousand hearts lie fallow in these halls, 

And round these halls a thousand baby loves 

Fly twanging headless arrows at the hearts, 3S0 

Whence follows many a vacant pang. But O 

With me, Sir, enter 'd in the bigger boy, 

The head of all the golden-shafted firm, 

The long-limb' d lad that had a Psyche too. 

He cleft me thro' the stomacher. And now, 385 

What think you of it, Florian ? Do I chase 

The substance or the shadow ? Will it hold ? 

I have no sorcerer's malison on me, 

No ghostly hauntings like his Highness. I 

Flatter myself that always everywhere 39° 

I know the substance when I see it. Well, 

Are castles shadows ? Three of them ? Is she 

The sweet proprietress a shadow ? If not, 

Shall those three castles patch my tatter' d coat ? 

For dear are those three castles to my wants, 395 

And dear is sister Psyche to my heart, 

And two dear things are one of double worth. 



30 THE PRINCESS [canto ii 

And much I might have said, but that my zone 

Unmann'd me. Then the Doctors! to hear 

The Doctors! O to watch the thirsty plants 400 

Imbibing! Once or twice I thought to roar, 

To break my chain, to shake my mane. But thou 

Modulate me, Soul of mincing mimicry! 

Make liquid treble of that bassoon, my throat. 

Abase those eyes that ever lov'd to meet 405 

Star-sisters answering under crescent brows. 

Abate the stride which speaks of man, and loose 

A flying charm of blushes o'er this cheek, 

Where they like swallows coming out of time 

Will wonder why they came. But hark the bell 410 

For dinner, let us go ! ' 

And in we stream' d 
Among the columns, pacing staid and still 
By twos and threes, till all from end to end 
With beauties every shade of brown and fair 
In colors gayer than the morning mist, 415 

The long hall glitter' d like a bed of flowers. 
How might a man not wander from his wits 
Pi ere' d thro' with eyes, but that I kept mine own 
Intent on her, who rapt in glorious dreams, 
The second-sight of some Astraean age, 420 

Sat compass' d with professors. They, the while, 
Discuss'd a doubt and toss'd it to and fro. 
A clamor thicken'd, mix'd with inmost terms 
Of art and science. Lady Blanche alone 
Of faded form and haughtiest lineaments, 425 

With all her autumn tresses falsely brown, 
Shot sidelong daggers at us, a tiger-cat 
In act to spring. 

At last a solemn grace 



canto ii] A MEDLEY 3 1 

Concluded, and we sought the gardens. There 

One walk'd reciting by herself, and one 430 

In this hand held a volume as to read, 

And smooth' d a petted peacock down with that. 

Some to a low song oar'd a shallop by, 

Or under arches of the marble bridge 

Hung, shadow'd from the heat. Some hid and sought 

In the orange thickets. Others toss'd a ball 436 

Above the fountain-jets, and back again 

With laughter. Others lay about the lawns, 

Of the older sort, and murmur* d that their May 

Was passing: what was learning unto them ? 440 

They wish'd to marry; they could rule a house; 

Men hated learned women. But we three 

Sat muffled like the Fates; and often came 

Melissa hitting all we saw with shafts 

Of gentle satire, kin to charity, 445 

That harm'd not. Then day droop'd; the chapel bells 

Call'd us. We left the walks; we mix'd with those 

Six hundred maidens clad in purest white, 

Before two streams of light from wall to wall, 

While the great organ almost burst his pipes, 450 

Groaning for power, and rolling thro' the court 

A long melodious thunder to the sound 

Of solemn psalms, and silver litanies, 

The work of Ida, to call down from Heaven 

A blessing on her labors for the world. 455 

Sweet and low, sweet and low, 

Wind of the western sea, 
Low, low, breathe and blow, 

Wind of the western sea ! 
Over the rolling waters go, 
Come from the dying moon, and blow, 



32 THE PRINCESS [canto in 

Blow him again to me ; 
While my little one, while my pretty one sleeps. 

Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, 

Father will come to thee soon ; 
Rest, rest, on mother's breast, 

Father will come to thee soon ; 
Father will come to his babe in the nest, 
Silver sails all out of the west 

Under the silver moon : 
Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep. 



III. 

Mom in the white wake of the morning star 
Came furrowing all the orient into gold. 
We rose, and each by other dress' d with care, 
Descended to the court that lay three parts 
In shadow, but the Muses' heads were touch' d 
Above the darkness from their native East. 

There while we stood beside the fount, and watch 'd 
Or seem'd to watch the dancing bubble, approach 'd 
Melissa, ting'd with wan from lack of sleep, 
Or grief, and glowing round her dewy eyes 10 

The circled Iris of a night of tears. 
' And fly ! ' she cried, ' O fly, while yet you may ! 
My mother knows.' And when I ask'd her ' How,' 
' My fault,' she wept, ' my fault! And yet not mine; 
Yet mine in part. O hear me, pardon me! 15 

My mother, 't is her wont from night to night 
To rail at Lady Psyche and her side. 
She says the Princess should have been the Head, 
Herself and Lady Psyche the two arms; 
And so it was agreed when first they came. 20 



canto in] A MEDLEY 33 

But Lady Psyche was the right hand now, 

And she the left, or not or seldom used ; 

Hers more than half the students, all the love. 

And so last night she fell to canvass you. 

Her countrywomen ! She did not envy her. 25 

' ' Who ever saw such wild barbarians ? 

Girls ? — more like men ! " And at these words the snake, 

My secret, seem'd to stir within my breast. 

And O, Sirs, could I help it, but my cheek 

Began to burn and burn, and her lynx eye 30 

To fix and make me hotter, till she laugh 'd. 

" O marvellously modest maiden, you! 

Men! girls like men! Why, if they had been men 

You need not set your thoughts in rubric thus 

For wholesale comment." Pardon, I am shamed 35 

That I must needs repeat for my excuse 

What looks so little graceful. " Men " (for still 

My mother went revolving on the word), 

" And so they are, — very like men indeed — 

And with that woman closeted for hours! " 40 

Then came these dreadful words out one by one, 

"Why — these — are — men!" I shudder'd. "And you 

know it ! " 
" O ask me nothing," I said. " And she knows too, 
And she conceals it." So my mother clutch'd 
The truth at once, but with no word from me. 45 

And now thus early risen she goes to inform 
The Princess. Lady Psyche will be crush 'd. 
But you may yet be saved, and therefore fly. 
But heal me with your pardon ere you go. ' 

' What pardon, sweet Melissa, for a blush ? ' 50 

Said Cyril. ' Pale one, blush again. Than wear 



34 THE PRINCESS [canto hi 

Those lilies, better blush our lives away. 

Yet let us breathe for one hour more in Heaven/ 

He added, ' lest some classic Angel speak 

In scorn of us, " They mounted, Ganymedes, 55 

To tumble, Vulcans, on the second morn." 

But I will melt this marble into wax 

To yield us farther furlough. ' And he went. 

Melissa shook her doubtful curls, and thought 
He scarce would prosper. ' Tell us,' Florian ask'd, 60 
1 How grew this feud betwixt the right and left. ' 
! O long ago, ' she said, ' betwixt these two 
Division smoulders hidden. 'T is my mother, 
Too jealous, often fretful as the wind 
Pent in a crevice. Much I bear with her. 65 

I never knew my father, but she says 
(God help her!) she was wedded to a fool. 
And still she rail'd against the state of things. 
She had the care of Lady Ida's youth, 
And from the Queen's decease she brought her up. 70 

But when your sister came she won the heart 
Of Ida. They were still together, grew 
(For so they said themselves) inosculated : 
Consonant chords that shiver to one note; 
One mind in all things. Yet my mother still 75 

Affirms your Psyche thiev'd her theories, 
And angled with them for her pupil's love. 
She calls her plagiarist; I know not what. 
But I must go ; I dare not tarry. ' And light, 
As flies the shadow of a bird, she fled. 80 

Then murmur' d Florian, gazing after her, 
1 An open-hearted maiden, true and pure, 



canto in] A MEDLEY 35 

If I could love, why this were she. How pretty 

Her blushing was, and how she blush'd again, 

As if to close with Cyril's random wish! 85 

Not like your Princess cramm'd with erring pride, 

Nor like poor Psyche whom she drags in tow. ' 

' The crane, ' I said, ' may chatter of the crane, 
The dove may murmur of the dove, but I 
An eagle clang an eagle to the sphere. 90 

My princess, O my princess ! true she errs, 
But in her own grand way. Being herself 
Three times more noble than three score of men, 
She sees herself in every woman else, 

And so she wears her error like a crown 95 

To blind the truth and me. For her, and her, 
Hebes are they to hand ambrosia, mix 
The nectar. But — ah, she — whene'er she moves 
The Samian Here rises, and she speaks 
A Memnon smitten with the morning sun. ' 100 

So saying from the court we paced, and gain'd 
The terrace rang'd along the northern front, 
And leaning there on those balusters, high 
Above the empurpled champaign, drank the gale 
That blown about the foliage underneath, 105 

And sated with the innumerable rose, 
Beat balm upon our eyelids. Hither came 
Cyril, and yawning ' O hard task, ' he cried. 
' No fighting shadows here! I forc'd a way 
Thro' solid opposition crabb'd and gnarl'd. no 

Better to clear prime forests, heave and thump 
A league of street in summer solstice down, 
Than hammer at this reverend gentlewoman. 



6 THE PRINCESS [canto hi 



I knock'd and, bidden, enter d; found her there 

At point to move, and settled in her eyes 115 

The green malignant light of coming storm. 

Sir, I was courteous, every phrase well-oil' d, 

As man's could be; yet maiden-meek I pray'd 

Concealment. She demanded who we were, 

And why we came ? I fabled nothing fair, 120 

But, your example pilot, told her all. 

Up went the hush'd amaze of hand and eye. 

But when I dwelt upon your old affiance, 

She answer' d sharply that I talk'd astray. 

1 urg'd the fierce inscription on the gate, 125 

And our three lives. True — we had limed ourselves 

With open eyes, and we must take the chance. 

But such extremes, I told her, well might harm 

The woman's cause. " Not more than now," she said, 

" So puddled as it is with favoritism." 130 

I tried the mother's heart. Shame might befall 

Melissa, knowing, saying not she knew. 

Her answer was, ' ' Leave me to deal with that. 

I spoke of war to come and many deaths, 

And she replied, her duty was to speak, 135 

And duty duty, clear of consequences. 

I grew discourag'd, Sir; but since I knew 

No rock so hard but that a little wave 

May beat admission in a thousand years, 

I recommenc'd. " Decide not ere you pause. 140 

I find you here but in the second place, 

Some say the third — the authentic foundress you. 

I offer boldly : we will seat you highest. 

Wink at our advent. Help my prince to gain 

His rightful bride, and here I promise you 145 

Some palace in our land, where you shall reign 



canto ml A MEDLEY 37 

The head and heart of all our fair she-world, 

And your great name flow on with broadening time 

For ever." Well, she balanc'd this a little, 

And told me she would answer us to-day, • 150 

Meantime be mute. Thus much, nor more I gain'd. ' 

He ceasing, came a message from the Head. 
1 That afternoon the Princess rode to take 
The dip of certain strata to the North. 
Would we go with her ? We should find the land 155 
Worth seeing; and the river made a fall 
Out yonder. ? Then she pointed on to where 
A double hill ran up his furrowy forks 
Beyond the thick-leav'd platans of the vale. 

Agreed to, this, the day fled on thro' all 160 

Its range of duties to the appointed hour. 
Then summon 'd to the porch we went. She stood 
Among her maidens, higher by the head, 
Her back against a pillar, her foot on one 
Of those tame leopards. Kittenlike he roll'd 165 

And paw'd about her sandal. I drew near; 
I gazed. On a sudden my strange seizure came 
Upon me, the weird vision of our house. 
The Princess Ida seem'd a hollow show, 
Her gay-furr'd cats a painted fantasy, 170 

Her college and her maidens empty masks, 
And I myself the shadow of a dream, 
For all things were and were not. Yet I felt 
My heart beat thick with passion and with awe. 
Then from my breast the involuntary sigh 175 

Brake, as she smote me with the light of eyes 
That lent my knee desire to kneel, and shook 



3§ THE PRINCESS [canto hi 

My pulses, till to horse we got, and so 

Went forth in long retinue following up 

The river as it narrow'd to the hills. 180 

I rode beside her and to me she said : 
' O friend, we trust that you esteem 'd us not 
Too harsh to your companion yestermorn. 
Unwillingly we spake.' ' No — not to her,' 
I answer' d, ' but to one of whom we spake 185 

Your Highness might have seem'd the thing you say. 
' Again ? ' she cried. ' Are you ambassadresses 
From him to me ? We give you, being strange, 
A license. Speak, and let the topic die. ' 

I stammer' d that I knew him — could -have wish'd — 
' Our king expects — was there no precontract ? 19 1 

There is no truer-hearted — ah, you seem 
All he prefigur'd, and he could not see 
The bird of passage flying south but long'd 
To follow. Surely, if your Highness keep 195 

Your purport, you will shock him ev'n to death, 
Or baser courses, children of despair.' 

' Poor boy ! ' she said, ' Can he not read — no books ? 
Quoit, tennis, ball — no games ? nor deals in that 
Which men delight in, martial exercise ? 200 

To nurse a blind ideal like a girl, 
Methinks he seems no better than a girl, — 
As girls were once, as we ourself have been. 
We had our dreams. Perhaps he mix'd with them. 
We touch on our dead self, nor shun to do it, 205 

Being other — since we learn 'd our meaning here, 
To lift the woman's fall'n divinity 
Upon an even pedestal with man.' 



canto in] A MEDLEY 39 

She paus'd, and added with a haughtier smile, 
' And as to precontracts, we move, my friend, 210 

At no man's beck, but know ourself and thee, 

Vashti, noble Vashti ! Summon'd out 
She kept her state, and left the drunken king 
To brawl at Shushan underneath the palms. ' 

1 Alas, your Highness breathes full East,' I said, 215 
' On that which leans to you ! I know the Prince, 

1 prize his truth. And then how vast a work 
To assail this gray pre-eminence of man ! 

You grant me license. Might I use it ? Think ; 

Ere half be done perchance your life may fail. 220 

Then comes the feebler heiress of your plan, 

And takes and ruins all ; and thus your pains 

May only make that footprint upon sand 

Which old-recurring waves of prejudice 

Resmooth to nothing. Might I dread that you, 225 

With only Fame for spouse and your great deeds 

For issue, yet may live in vain, and miss 

Meanwhile what every woman counts her due, 

Love, children, happiness ? ' 

And she exclaim'd, 
' Peace, you young savage of the Northern wild! 230 

What! Tho' your Prince's love were like a God's, 
Have we not made ourself the sacrifice ? 
You are bold indeed. We are not talk'd to thus. 
Yet will we say for children, would they grew 
Like field-flowers everywhere! We like them well. 235 
But children die; and let me tell you, girl, 
Howe'er you babble, great deeds cannot die. 
They with the sun and moon renew their light 
For ever, blessing those that look on them. 



40 THE PRINCESS [canto hi 

Children — that men may pluck them from our hearts, 240 

Kill us with pity, break us with ourselves — 

O — children — there is nothing upon earth 

More miserable than she that has a son 

And sees him err. Nor would we w r ork for fame; 

Tho' she perhaps might reap the applause of Great, 245 

Who learns the one pou sto whence after-hands 

May move the world, tho' she herself effect 

But little. Wherefore up and act, nor shrink 

For fear our solid aim be dissipated 

By frail successors. W r ould, indeed, we had been, 250 

In lieu of many mortal flies, a race 

Of giants living each a thousand years, 

That we might see our own work out, and watch 

The sandy footprint harden into stone. ' 

I answer' d nothing, doubtful in myself 255 

If that strange poet-princess with her grand 
Imaginations might at all be won. 
And she broke out interpreting my thoughts : 

1 No doubt we seem a kind of monster to you. 
We are us'd to that; for women, up till this 260 

Cramp'd under worse than South-sea-isle taboo, 
Dwarfs of the gynaeceum, fail so far 
In high desire, they know not, cannot guess 
How much their welfare is a passion to us. 
If we could give them surer, quicker proof — 265 

O if our end were less achievable 
By slow approaches than by single act 
Of immolation, any phase of death, 
We were as prompt to spring against the pikes, 
Or down the fiery gulf as talk of it, 270 

To compass our dear sisters' liberties. ' 



canto in] A MEDLEY 4 1 

She bow'd as if to veil a noble tear. 
And up we came to where the river sloped 
To plunge in cataract, shattering on black blocks 
A breadth of thunder. O'er it shook the woods, 275 

And danc'd the color, and, below, stuck out 
The bones of some vast bulk that liv'd and roar'd 
Before man was. She gazed awhile and said, 
' As these rude bones to us, are we to her 
That will be.' ' Dare we dream of that,' I ask'd, 2S0 
' Which brought us, as the workman and his work, 
That practice betters ? ' ' How ! ' she cried, ' You love 
The metaphysics ! Read and earn our prize, 
A golden brooch : beneath an emerald plane 
Sits Diotima, teaching him that died 285 

Of hemlock; our device; wrought to the life; 
She rapt upon her subject, he on her. 
For there are schools for all. ' ' And yet, ' I said, 
' Methinks I have not found among them all 
One anatomic. ' ' Nay, we thought of that, ' 290 

She answer'd, ' but it pleas'd us not. In truth 
We shudder but to dream our maids should ape 
Those monstrous males that carve the living hound, 
And cram him with the fragments of the grave, 
Or in the dark dissolving human heart, 295 

And holy secrets of this microcosm, 
Dabbling a shameless hand with shameful jest, 
Encarnalize their spirits. Yet we know 
Knowledge is knowledge, and this matter hangs. 
Howbeit ourself, foreseeing casualty, 300 

Nor willing men should come among us, learn' d, 
For many weary moons before we came, 
This craft of healing. Were you sick, ourself 
Would tend upon you. To your question now, 



42 THE PRINCESS [canto hi 

Which touches on the workman and his work. 305 

Let there be light and there was light: 't is so; 

For was, and is, and will be, are but is; 

And all creation is one act at once, 

The birth of light. But we that are not all, 

As parts, can see but parts, now this, now that, 310 

And live, perforce, from thought to thought, and make 

One act a phantom of succession. Thus 

Our weakness somehow shapes the shadow, Time. 

But in the shadow will we work, and mould 

The woman to the fuller day. ' 

She spake 3 J 5 

With kindled eyes. We rode a league beyond, 
And, o'er a bridge of pinewood crossing, came 
On flowery levels underneath the crag, 
Full of all beauty. ' O how sweet, ' I said 
(For I was half-oblivious of my mask), 320 

' To linger here with one that lov'd us! ' ' Yea,' 
She answer' d, ' or with fair philosophies 
That lift the fancy; for indeed these fields 
Are lovely, lovelier not the Elysian lawns, 
Where paced the Demigods of old, and saw 325 

The soft white vapor streak the crowned towers 
Built to the Sun.' Then, turning to her maids, 
1 Pitch our pavilion here upon the sward. 
Lay out the viands.' At the word, they rais'd 
A tent of satin, elaborately wrought 330 

With fair Corinna's triumph. Here she stood, 
Engirt with many a florid maiden-cheek, 
The woman-conqueror; woman-conquer' d there 
The bearded Victor of ten-thousand hymns, 
And all the men mourn'd at his side. But we 335 

Set forth to climb. Then, climbing, Cyril kept 



canto ill] A MEDLEY 43 

With Psyche, with Melissa Florian, I 

With mine affianc'd. Many a little hand 

Glanc'd like a touch of sunshine on the rocks, 

Many a light foot shone like a jewel set 34° 

In the dark crag. And then we turn'd, we wound 

About the cliffs, the copses, out and in, 

Hammering and clinking, chattering stony names 

Of shale and hornblende, rag and trap and tuff, 

Amygdaloid and trachyte, till the sun 345 

Grew broader toward his death and fell, and all 

The rosy heights came out above the lawns. 

The splendor falls on castle walls 

And snowy summits old in story ; 
The long light shakes across the lakes, 
And the wild cataract leaps in glory. 
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, 
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. 

O hark, O hear ! how thin and clear, 

And thinner, clearer, farther going ! 
O sweet and fa/ from cliff and scar 
The horns of Elfland faintly blowing ! 
Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying : 
Blow, bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. 

O love, they die in yon rich sky, 

They faint on hill or field or river ; 
Our echoes roll from soul to soul, 
And grow for ever and for ever. 
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, 
And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying. 



44 THE PRINCESS [canto rv 



IV. 

' There sinks the nebulous star we call the sun, 
If that hypothesis of theirs be sound, ' 
Said Ida. ' Let us down and rest. ' And we 
Down from the lean and wrinkled precipices, 
By every coppice-feather' d chasm and cleft, 5 

Dropp'd thro' the ambrosial gloom to where below 
No bigger than a glow-worm shone the tent 
Lamp-lit from the inner. Once she lean'd on me, 
Descending; once or twice she lent her hand, 
And blissful palpitations in the blood 10 

Stirring a sudden transport rose and fell. 

But when we planted level feet, and dipp'd 
Beneath the satin dome and enter' d in, 
There leaning deep in broider'd down we sank 
Our elbows. On a tripod in the midst 15 

A fragrant flame rose, and before us glow'd 
Fruit, blossom, viand, amber wine, and gold. 

Then she, ' Let some one sing to us; lightlier move 
The minutes fledg'd with music' And a maid, 
Of those beside her, smote her harp and sang. 20 

' Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, 
Tears from the depth of some divine despair 
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, 
In looking on the happy autumn-fields, 
And thinking of the days that are no more. 25 

' Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, 
That brings our friends up from the underworld, 
Sad as the last which reddens over one 
That sinks with all we love below the verge ; 
So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more. 30 



canto iv] A MEDLEY 45 

' Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns 
The earliest pipe of half-awaken'd birds 
To dying ears, when unto dying eyes 
The casement slowly grows a glimmering square ; 
So sad, so strange, the days that are no more. 35 

' Dear as remember'd kisses after death, 
And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign'd 
On lips that are for others ; deep as love, 
Deep as first love, and wild with all regret ; 
O Death in Life, the days that are no more.' 40 

She ended with such passion that the tear 
She sang of shook and fell, an erring pearl 
Lost in her bosom. But with some disdain 
Answer' d the Princess, ' If indeed there haunt 
About the moulder'd lodges of the past 45 

So sweet a voice and vague, fatal to men, 
Well needs it we should cram our ears with wool 
And so pace by. But thine are fancies hatch 'd 
In silken-folded idleness. Nor is it 

Wiser to weep a true occasion lost, 50 

But trim our sails, and let old bygones be, 
While down the streams that float us each and all 
To the issue, goes, like glittering bergs of ice, 
Throne after throne, and molten on the waste 
Becomes a cloud: for all things serve their time 55 

Toward that great year of equal mights and rights. 
Nor would I fight with iron laws, in the end 
Found golden. Let the past be past; let be 
Their cancel' d Babels; tho' the rough kex break 
The starr' d mosaic, and the beard-blown goat 60 

Hang on the shaft, and the wild fig-tree split 
Their monstrous idols, care not while we hear 
A trumpet in the distance pealing news 



46 THE PRINCESS [canto iV 

Of better, and Hope, a poising eagle, burns 

Above the unrisen morrow. ' Then to me : 65 

' Know you no song of your own land, ' she said, 

I Not such as moans about the retrospect, 

But deals with the other distance and the hues 

Of promise; not a death's-head at the wine ? ' 

Then I remember' d one myself had made, 70 

What time I watch'd the swallow winging south 
From mine own land, part made long since, and part 
Now while I sang, and maidenlike as far 
As I could ape their treble did I sing. 

' O Swallow, Swallow, flying, flying South, 75 

Fly to her, and fall upon her gilded eaves, 
And tell her, tell her, what I tell to thee. 

' O tell her. Swallow, thou that knowest each, 
That bright and fierce and fickle is the South, 
And dark and true and tender is the North. 80 

' O Swallow, Swallow, if I could follow, and light 
Upon her lattice, I would pipe and trill, 
And cheep and twitter twenty million loves. 

4 O were I thou that she might take me in, 
And lay me on her bosom, and her heart 85 

Would rock the snowy cradle till I died. 

« Why lingereth she to clothe her heart with love, 
Delaying as the tender ash delays 
To clothe herself, when all the woods are green ? 

' O tell her, Swallow, that thy brood is flown ; 90 

Say to her, I do but wanton in the South, 
But in the North long since my nest is made. 

' O tell her, brief is life but love is long, 
And brief the sun of summer in the North, 
And brief the moon of beauty in the South. 95 



canto iv] A MEDLEY 47 

' Swallow, flying from the golden woods, 
Fly to her, and pipe and woo her, and make her mine, 
And tell her, tell her, that I follow thee.' 

I ceas'd, and all the ladies, each at each, 
Like the Ithacensian suitors in old time, ioo 

Stared with great eyes, and laugh 'd with alien lips, 
And knew not what they meant; for still my voice 
Rang false. But smiling, ' Not for thee, ' she said, 
' O Bulbul, any rose of Gulistan 

Shall burst her veil. Marsh-divers, rather, maid, 105 

Shall croak thee sister, or the meadow-crake 
Grate her harsh kindred in the grass. And this 
A mere love-poem ! O for such, my friend, 
We hold them slight. They mind us of the time 
When we made bricks in Egypt. Knaves are men, no 
That lute and flute fantastic tenderness, 
And dress the victim to the offering up, 
And paint the gates of Hell with Paradise, 
And play the slave to gain the tyranny. 
Poor soul! I had a maid of honor once. 115 

She wept her true eyes blind for such a one, 
A rogue of canzonets and serenades. 
I lov'd her. Peace be with her. She is dead. 
So they blaspheme the muse ! But great is song 
Us'd to great ends. Ourself have often tried 120 

Valkyrian hymns, or into rhythm have dash'd 
The passion of the prophetess ; for song 
Is duer unto freedom, force and growth 
Of spirit, than to junketing and love. 
Love is it ? Would this same mock-love, and this 125 
Mock-Hymen were laid up like winter bats, 
Till all men grew to rate us at our worth, 
Not vassals to be beat, nor pretty babes 



48 THE PRINCESS [canto iv 

To be dandled, no, but living wills, and sphered 

Whole in ourselves and owed to none. Enough ! 130 

But now to leaven play with profit, you, 

Know you no song, the true growth of your soil, 

That gives the manners of your countrywomen ? ' 

She spoke and turn'd her sumptuous head with eyes 
Of shining expectation fix'd on mine. 135 

Then while I dragg'd my brains for such a song, 
Cyril, with whom the bell-mouth' d glass had wrought, 
Or master' d by the sense of sport, began 
To troll a careless, careless tavern-catch 
Of Moll and Meg, and strange experiences 140 

Unmeet for ladies. Florian nodded at him, 
I frowning. Psyche flush 'd and wann'd and shook. 
The lilylike Melissa droop' d her brows. 
' Forbear, ' the Princess cried. ' Forbear, Sir, ' I ; 
And heated thro' and thro' with wrath and love ; 145 

I smote him on the breast. He started up. 
There rose a shriek as of a city sack'd. 
Melissa clamor'd ' Flee the death.' ' To horse! ' 
Said Ida; ' home! to horse! ' and fled, as flies 
A troop of snowy doves athwart the dusk, 150 

When some one batters at the dovecote doors, 
Disorderly the women. Alone I stood 
With Florian, cursing Cyril, vex'd at heart, 
In the pavilion. There like parting hopes 
I heard them passing from me: hoof by hoof, 155 

And every hoof a knell to my desires, 
Clang' d on the bridge; and then another shriek, 
' The Head, the Head, the Princess, O the Head ! ' 
For blind with rage she miss'd the plank, and roll'd 
In the river. Out I sprang from glow to gloom. 160 



canto iv] A MEDLEY 49 

There whirl'd her white robe like a blossom'd branch 

Rapt to the horrible fall. A glance I gave, 

No more; but woman-vested as I was 

Plunged; and the flood drew; yet I caught her. Then 

Oaring one arm, and bearing in my left 165 

The weight of all the hopes of half the world, 

Strove to buffet to land in vain. A tree 

Was half-disrooted from his place and stoop 'd 

To drench his dark locks in the gurgling wave 

Mid-channel. Right on this we drove and caught, -7° 

And grasping down the boughs I gain'd the shore. 

There stood her maidens glimmeringly group'd 
In the hollow bank. One reaching forward drew 
My burthen from mine arms. They cried, ' She lives. ' 
They bore her back into the tent. But I, 175 

So much a kind of shame within me wrought, 
Not yet endur'd to meet her opening eyes, 
Nor found my friends; but push'd alone on foot 
(For since her horse was lost I left her mine) 
Across the woods, and less from Indian craft 1S0 

Than beelike instinct hiveward, found at length 
The garden portals. Two great statues, Art 
And Science, Caryatids, lifted up 
A weight of emblem, and betwixt were valves 
Of open-work in which the hunter ru'd 185 

His rash intrusion, manlike, but his brows 
Had sprouted, and the branches thereupon 
Spread out at top, and grimly spiked the gates. 

A little space was left between the horns, 
Thro' which I clamber'd o'er at top with pain, 19° 

Dropp'd on the sward, and up the linden walks, 



50 THE PRINCESS [canto iv 

And toss'd on thoughts that chang'd from hue to hue, 
Now poring on the glowworm, now the star, 
I paced the terrace, till the Bear had wheel' d 
Thro' a great arc his seven slow suns. 

A step 195 

Of lightest echo, then a loftier form 
Than female, moving thro' the uncertain gloom, 
Disturb'd me with the doubt ' if this were she/ 
But it was Florian. ' Hist, O hist! ' he said, 
1 They seek us. Out so late is out of rules. 200 

Moreover, " Seize the strangers " is the cry. 
How came you here ? ' I told him. ' I,' said he, 
1 Last of the train, a moral leper, I, 
To whom none spake, half-sick at heart, return' d. 
Arriving all confus'd among the rest 205 

With hooded brows I crept into the hall, 
And, couch'd behind a Judith, underneath 
The head of Holofernes peep'd and saw. 
Girl after girl was call'd to trial. Each 
Disclaim'd all knowledge of us; last of all, 210 

Melissa. Trust me, Sir, I piti'd her. 
She, question 'd if she knew us men, at first 
Was silent; closer press'd denied it not: 
And then, demanded if her mother knew, 
Or Psyche, she affirm'd not, or denied; 215 

From whence the Royal mind, familiar with her, 
Easily gather' d either guilt. She sent 
For Psyche, but she was not there. She call'd 
For Psyche's child to cast it from the doors. 
She sent for Blanche to accuse her face to face; 220 

And I slipp'd out. But whither will you now ? 
And where are Psyche, Cyril ? Both are fled : 
What, if together ? That were not so well. 



canto iv] A MEDLEY 5 1 

Would rather we had never come! I dread 

His wildness, and the chances of the dark. ' 225 

1 And yet, ' I said, ' you wrong him more than I 
That struck him. This is proper to the clown, 
Tho' smock'd, or furr'd and purpled, still the clown, 
To harm the thing that trusts him, and to shame 
That which he says he loves; for Cyril, howe'er 230 

He deal in frolic, as to-night — the song 
Might have been worse and sinn'd in grosser lips 
Beyond all pardon — as it is, I hold 
These flashes on the surface are not he. 
He has a solid base of temperament; 235 

But as the water-lily starts and slides 
Upon the level in little puffs of wind, 
Tho' anchor'd to the bottom, such is he.' 

Scarce had I ceas'd when from a tamarisk near 
Two Proctors leap'd upon us, crying, ' Names/ 240 

He, standing still, was clutch'd; but I began 
To thrid the musky-circled mazes, wind 
And double in and out the boles, and race 
By all the fountains. Fleet I was of foot. 
Before me shower' d the rose in flakes; behind 245 

I heard the puff'd pursuer; at mine ear 
Bubbled the nightingale and heeded not, 
And secret laughter tickled all my soul. 
At last I hook'd my ankle in a vine, 

That clasp' d the feet of a Mnemosyne, 250 

And falling on my face was caught and known. 

They haled us to the Princess where she sat 
High in the hall. Above her droop'd a lamp, 



52 THE PRINCESS [canto iv 

And made the single jewel on her brow 

Burn like the mystic fire on a mast-head, 255 

Prophet of storm. A handmaid on each side 

Bow'd toward her, combing out her long black hair 

Damp from the river; and close behind her stood 

Eight daughters of the plough, stronger than men, 

Huge women blowz'd with health, and wind, and rain, 

And labor. Each was like a Druid rock; 261 

Or like a spire of land that stands apart 

Cleft from the main, and wail'd about with mews. 

Then, as we came, the crowd dividing clove 
An advent to the throne; and therebeside, 265 

Half-naked as if caught at once from bed 
And tumbled on the purple footcloth, lay 
The lily-shining child ; and on the left, 
Bow'd on her palms and folded up from wrong, 
Her round white shoulder shaken with her sobs, 270 

Melissa knelt. But Lady Blanche erect 
Stood up and spake, an affluent orator. 

' It was not thus, O Princess, in old days. 
You prized my counsel, liv'd upon my lips. 
I led you then to all the Castalies; 275 

I fed you with the milk of every Muse; 
I lov'd you like this kneeler, and you me 
Your second mother. Those were gracious times. 
Then came your new friend : you began to change — 
I saw it and griev'd — to slacken and to cool; 280 

Till taken with her seeming openness 
You turn'd your warmer currents all to her, 
To me you froze. This was my meed for all. 
Yet I bore up in part from ancient love, 



canto iv] A MEDLEY 53 

And partly that I hoped to win you back, 285 

And partly conscious of my own deserts, 

And partly that you were my civil head, 

And chiefly you were born for something great, 

In which I might your fellow-worker be, 

When time should serve; and thus a noble scheme 290 

Grew up from seed we two long since had sown ; 

In us true growth, in her a Jonah's gourd, 

Up in one night and due to sudden sun. 

We took this palace; but even from the first 

You stood in your own light and darken'd mine. 295 

W T hat student came but that you planed her path 

To Lady Psyche, younger, not so wise, 

A foreigner, and I your countrywoman, 

I your old friend and tried, she new in all ? 

But still her lists were swell' d and mine were lean. 300 

Yet I bore up in hope she would be known. 

Then came these wolves: they knew her; they endured, 

Long-closeted with her the yestermorn, 

To tell her what they were, and she to hear. 

And me none told. Not less to an eye like mine, 305 

A lidless watcher of the public weal, 

Last night, their mask was patent, and my foot 

Was to you. But I thought again. I fear'd 

To meet a cold " We thank you, w T e shall hear of it 

From Lady Psyche: " you had gone to her, 3 10 

She told, perforce; and winning easy grace, 

No doubt, for slight delay, remain 'd among us 

In our young nursery still unknown, the stem 

Less grain than touchwood, while my honest heat 

Were all miscounted as malignant haste 3 J 5 

To push my rival out of place and power. 

But public use required she should be known; 



54 THE PRINCESS [canto iv 

And since my oath was ta'en for public use, 

I broke the letter of it to keep the sense. 

I spoke not then at first, but watch 'd them well, 32c 

Saw that they kept apart, no mischief done; 

And yet this day (tho 7 you should hate me for it) 

I came to tell you; found that you had gone, 

Ridden to the hills, she likewise. Now, I thought, 

That surely she will speak; if not, then I. 3 2 5 

Did she ? These monsters blazon 'd what they were, 

According to the coarseness of their kind, 

For thus I hear; and known at last (my work) 

And full of cowardice and guilty shame — 

I grant in her some sense of shame — she flies; 330 

And I remain on whom to wreak your rage, 

I, that have lent my life to build up yours, 

I, that have wasted here health, wealth, and time, 

And talent, I — you know it — I will not boast. 

Dismiss me, and I prophesy your plan, 335 

Divorc'd from my experience, will be chaff 

For every gust of chance, and men will say 

We did not know the real light, but chased 

The wisp that flickers where no foot can tread. ' 

She ceas'd. The Princess answer'd coldly: ' Good: 
Your oath is broken. We dismiss you; go. 341 

For this lost lamb ' (she pointed to the child) 
' Our mind is changed; we take it to ourself. ' 

Thereat the Lady stretch 'd a vulture throat, 
And shot from crooked lips a haggard smile. 345 

' The plan was mine. I built the nest,' she said, 
' To hatch the cuckoo. Rise! ' and stoop'd to updrag 
Melissa. She, half on her mother propp'd 



canto iv] A MEDLEY 55 

Half-drooping from her, turn'd her face, and cast 

A liquid look on Ida, full of prayer, 35° 

Which melted Fiorian's fancy as she hung, 

A Niobean daughter, one arm out, 

Appealing to the bolts of Heaven. And while 

We gazed upon her came a little stir 

About the doors, and on a sudden rush'd 355 

Among us, out of breath, as one pursu'd, 

A woman-post in flying raiment. Fear 

Stared in her eyes, and chalk 'd her face, and wing'd 

Her transit to the throne, whereby she fell 

Delivering sealed dispatches which the Head 360 

Took half-amazed, and in her lion's mood 

Tore open, silent we with blind surmise 

Regarding, while she read, till over brow 

And cheek and bosom brake the wrathful bloom 

As of some fire against a stormy cloud, 365 

When the wild peasant rights himself, the rick 

Flames, and his anger reddens in the heavens; 

For anger most it seem'd, while now her breast, 

Beaten with some great passion at her heart, 

Palpitated, her hand shook, and we heard 370 

In the dead hush the papers that she held 

Rustle. At once the lost lamb at her feet 

Sent out a bitter bleating for its dam. 

The plaintive cry jarr'd on her ire. She crush'd 

The scrolls together, made a sudden turn 375 

As if to speak, but, utterance failing her, 

She whirl' d them on to me, as who should say 

1 Read,' and I read — two letters — one her sire's: 

1 Fair daughter, when we sent the Prince your way 
We knew not your ungracious laws, which learn'd, 3 80 



56 THE PRINCESS [canto IV 

We, conscious of what temper you are built, 

Came all in haste to hinder wrong, but fell 

Into his father's hand, who has this night, 

You lying close upon his territory, 

Slipp'd round and in the dark invested you, 3 8 5 

And here he keeps me hostage for his son. ' 

The second was my father's running thus: 
1 You have our son. Touch not a hair of his head. 
Render him up unscathed. Give him your hand: 
Cleave to your contract: tho' indeed we hear 39° 

You hold the woman is the better man ; 
A rampant heresy, such as if it spread 
Would make all women kick against their lords 
Thro' all the world, and which might well deserve 
That we this night should pluck your palace down; 395 
And we will do it, unless you send us back 
Our son, on the instant, whole. ' 

So far I read; 
And then stood up and spoke impetuously. 

' O not to pry and peer on your reserve, 
But led by golden wishes, and a hope 4°° 

The child of regal compact, did I break 
Your precinct ; not a scorner of your sex 
But venerator, zealous it should be 
All that it might be. Hear me, for I bear, 
Tho' man, yet human, whatso'er your wrongs, 405 

From the flaxen curl to the gray lock a life 
Less mine than yours. My nurse would tell me of you ; 
I babbled for you, as babies for the moon, 
Vague brightness. When a boy, you stoop 'd to me 
From all high places, liv'd in all fair lights, 4 1 © 



canto iv] A MEDLEY 57 

Came in long breezes rapt from inmost south 

And blown to inmost north. At eve and dawn 

With Ida, Ida, Ida, rang the woods; 

The leader wild-swan in among the stars 

Would clang it, and lapp'd in wreaths of glowworm light 

The mellow breaker murmur' d Ida. Now, 416 

Because I would have reach 'd you, had you been 

Sphered up with Cassiopeia, or the enthroned 

Persephone in Hades, now at length, 

Those winters of abeyance all worn out, 420 

A man I came to see you. But, indeed, 

Not in this frequence can I lend full tongue, 

noble Ida, to those thoughts that wait 
On you, their centre. Let me say but this, 

That many a famous man and woman, town 425 

And landskip, have I heard of, after seen 

The dwarfs of presage : tho' when known, there grew 

Another kind of beauty in detail 

Made them worth knowing. But in you I found 

My boyish dream involv'd and dazzled down 430 

And master' d, while that after-beauty makes 

Such head from act to act, from hour to hour, 

W T ithin me, that except you slay me here, 

According to your bitter statute-book, 

1 cannot cease to follow you, as they say 435 
The seal does music; who desire you more 

Than growing boys their manhood; dying lips, 

With many thousand matters left to do, 

The breath of life; O more than poor men wealth, 

Than sick men health — yours, yours, not mine — but half 

Without you; with you, whole; and of those halves 441 

You worthiest. And howe'er you block and bar 

Your heart with system out from mine, I hold 



58 THE PRINCESS [canto iv 

That it becomes no man to nurse despair, 

But in the teeth of clench 'd antagonisms 445 

To follow up the worthiest till he die. 

Yet that I came not all unauthorized 

Behold your father's letter.' 

On one knee 
Kneeling, I gave it, which she caught, and dash'd 
Unopen'd at her feet. A tide of fierce 450 

Invective seem'd to wait behind her lips, 
As waits a river level with the dam 
Ready to burst and flood the world with foam. 
And so she would have spoken, but there rose 
A hubbub in the court of half the maids 455 

Gather' d together. From the illumin'd hall 
Long lanes of splendor slanted o'er a press 
Of snowy shoulders, thick as herded ewes, 
And rainbow robes, and gems and gemlike eyes, 
And gold and golden heads. They to and fro 460 

Fluctuated, as flowers in storm, some red, some pale, 
All open-mouth'd, all gazing to the light, 
Some crying there was an army in the land, 
And some that men were in the very walls, 
And some they cared not; till a clamor grew 465 

As of a new-world Babel, woman-built, 
And worse-confounded. High above them stood 
The placid marble Muses, looking peace. 

Not peace she look'd, the Head; but rising up 
Robed in the long night of her deep hair, so 470 

To the open window moved, remaining there 
Fix'd like a beacon-tower above the waves 
Of tempest, when the crimson-rolling eye 
Glares ruin, and the wild birds on the light 



canto iv] A MEDLEY 59 

Dash themselves dead. She stretch' d her arms and call'd 
Across the tumult, and the tumult fell. 476 

' What fear ye, brawlers ? am not I your Head ? 
On me, me, me, the storm first breaks. / dare 
All these male thunderbolts. What is it ye fear ? 
Peace! There are those to avenge us and they come. 480 
If not, — myself were like enough, O girls, 
To unfurl the maiden banner of our rights, 
And clad in iron burst the ranks of war, 
Or, falling, protomartyr of our cause, 
Die. Yet I blame you not so much for fear. 485 

Six thousand years of fear have made you that 
From which I would redeem you. But for those 
That stir this hubbub — you and you — I know 
Your faces there in the crowd — to-morrow morn 
We hold a great convention. Then shall they 49° 

That love their voices more than duty, learn 
With whom they deal, dismiss' d in shame to live 
No wiser than their mothers, household stuff, 
Live chattels, mincers of each other's fame, 
Full of weak poison, turnspits for the clown, 495 

The drunkard's football, laughing-stocks of Time, 
Whose brains are in their hands and in their heels, 
But fit to flaunt, to dress, to dance, to thrum, 
To tramp, to scream, to burnish, and to scour, 
For ever slaves at home and fools abroad. ' 500 

She, ending, waved her hands; thereat the crowd 
Muttering, dissolv'd. Then with a smile, that look'd 
A stroke of cruel sunshine on the cliff, 
When all the glens are drown' d in azure gloom 
Of thunder-shower, she floated to us and said : 505 



6o THE PfiWCESS [canto iv 

' You have done well and like a gentleman, 
And like a prince. You have our thanks for all : 
And you look well too in your woman's dress. 
Well have you done and like a gentleman. 
You saved our life; we owe you bitter thanks. 510 

Better have died and spill' d our bones in the flood — 
Then men had said — but now — What hinders me 
To take such bloody vengeance on you both ? — 
Yet since our father — Wasps in our good hive, 
You would-be quenchers of the light to be, 515 

Barbarians, grosser than your native bears — 

would I had his sceptre for one hour! 

You that have dared to break our bound, and gull'd 
Our servants, wrong' d and lied and thwarted us — 
/wed with thee! /bound by precontract 520 

Your bride, your bondslave! Not tho' all the gold 
That veins the world were pack'd to make your crown, 
And every spoken tongue should lord you. Sir, 
Your falsehood and yourself are hateful to us. 

1 trample on your offers and on you. 525 
Begone. We will not look upon you more. 

Here, push them out at gates. ' 

In wrath she spake. 
Then those eight mighty daughters of the plough 
Bent their broad faces toward us and address' d 
Their motion. Twice I sought to plead my cause, 530 
But on my shoulder hung their heavy hands, 
The weight of destiny. So from her face 
They push'd us, down the steps, and thro' the court, 
And with grim laughter thrust us out at gates. 

We cross'd the street and gain'd a petty mound 535 
Beyond it, whence we saw the lights and heard 



interlude] A MEDLEY 6 1 

The voices murmuring. While I listened, came 

On a sudden the weird seizure and the doubt. 

I seem'd to move among a world of ghosts. 

The Princess with her monstrous woman-guard, 540 

The jest and earnest working side by side, 

The cataract and the tumult and the kings 

Were shadows; and the long fantastic night 

With all its doings had and had not been, 

And all things were and were not. 

This went by 545 

As strangely as it came, and on my spirits 
Settled a gentle cloud of melancholy; 
Not long. I shook it off; for spite of doubts 
And sudden ghostly shadowings I was one 
To whom the touch of all mischance but came 55° 

As night to him that sitting on a hill 
Sees the midsummer, midnight, Norway sun 
Set into sunrise. Then we moved away. 

INTERLUDE. 

Thy voice is heard thro' rolling drums, 

That beat to battle where he stands ; 
Thy face across his fancy comes, 

And gives the battle to his hands : 
A moment, while the trumpets blow, 

He sees his brood about thy knee ; 
The next, like fire he meets the foe, 

And strikes him dead for thine and thee, 

So Lilia sang: we thought her half-possess'd, 
She struck such warbling fury thro' the words. 10 

And, after, feigning pique at what she call'd 
The raillery, or grotesque, or false sublime — 
Like one that wishes at a dance to change 



62 THE PRINCESS [canto V 

The music — clapp'd her hands and cried for war, 

Or some grand fight to kill and make an end. 15 

And he that next inherited the tale, 

Half turning to the broken statue, said, 

' Sir Ralph has got your colors; if I prove 

Your knight, and fight your battle, what for me ? ' 

It chanc'd, her empty glove upon the tomb 20 

Lay by her like a model of her hand. 

She took it and she flung it. ' Fight, ' she said, 

' And make us all we would be, great and good. ' 

He knightlike in his cap instead of casque,. 

A cap of Tyrol borrow 'd from the hall, 25 

Arrang'd the favor, and assum'd the Prince. 

V. 

Now, scarce three paces measur'd from the mound, 
We stumbled on a stationary voice, 

And ' Stand ! Who goes ? ' ' Two from the palace, ' I. 
' The second two : they wait, ' he said, ' pass on ; 
His Highness wakes.' And one, that clash'd in arms, 5 
By glimmering lanes and walls of canvas led 
Threading the soldier-city, till we heard 
The drowsy folds of our great ensign shake 
From blazon'd lions o'er the imperial tent 
Whispers of war. 

Entering, the sudderi light 10 

Dazed me half-blind. I stood and seem'd to hear, 
As in a poplar grove when a light wind wakes 
A lisping of the innumerous leaf and dies, 
Each hissing in his neighbor's ear; and then 
A strangled titter, out of which there brake 15 

On all sides, clamoring etiquette to death, 



canto v] A MEDLEY 6$ 

Unmeasur'd mirth; while now the two old kings 
Began to wag their baldness up and down, 
The fresh young captains flash 'd their glittering teeth, 
The huge bush-bearded barons heav'd and blew, 20 

And slain with laughter roll'd the gilded squire. 

At length my sire, his rough cheek wet with tears, 
Panted from weary sides, ' King, you are free! 
We did but keep you surety for our son, 
If this be he, — or a draggled mawkin, thou, 25 

That tends her bristled grunters in the sludge; ' — 
For I was drench 'd with ooze, and torn with briers, 
More crumpled than a poppy from the sheath, 
And all one rag, disprinc'd from head to heel. 
Then some one sent beneath his vaulted palm 30 

A whisper' d jest to some one near him, ' Look, 
He has been among his shadows.' 'Satan take 
The old women and their shadows ! ' — thus the King 
Roar'd — ' make yourself a man to fight with men. 
Go: Cyril told us all. ' 

As boys that slink 35 

From ferule and the trespass-chiding eye, 
Away we stole, and transient in a trice 
From what was left of faded woman-slough 
To sheathing splendors and the golden scale 
Of harness, issu'd in the sun, that now 40 

Leapt from the dewy shoulders of the Earth, 
And hit the Northern hills. Here Cyril met us, 
A little shy at first, but by and by 
We twain, with mutual pardon ask'd and given 
For stroke and song, resolder'd peace, whereon 45 

Follow'd his tale. Amazed he fled away 
Thro' the dark land, and later in the night 



64 THE PRINCESS [canto v 

Had come on Psyche weeping. Then we fell 
Into your father's hand, and there she lies, 
But will not speak nor stir. ' 

He show'd a tent 50 

A stone-shot off. We enter' d in, and there 
Among piled arms and rough accoutrements, 
Pitiful sight, wrapp'd in a soldier's cloak, 
Like some sweet sculpture draped from head to foot, 
And push'd by rude hands from its pedestal, 55 

All her fair length upon the ground she lay; 
And at her head a follower of the camp, 
A charr'd and wrinkled piece of womanhood, 
Sat watching like a watcher by the dead. 

Then Florian knelt, and ' Come,' he whisper' d to her, 
' Lift up your head, sweet sister: lie not thus. . 61 

What have you done but right ? You could not slay 
Me, nor your prince. Look up : be comforted. 
Sweet is it to have done the thing one ought, 
W r hen fallen in darker ways. ' And likewise I: 65 

1 Be comforted : have I not lost her too, 
In whose least act abides the nameless charm 
That none has else for me ? ' She heard, she moved, 
She moan'd, a folded voice; and up she sat, 
And rais'd the cloak from brows as pale and smooth 70 
As those that mourn half-shrouded over death 
In deathless marble. ' Her, ' she said, ' my friend — 
Parted from her — betray' d her cause and mine — 
Where shall I breathe ? Why kept ye not your faith ? 
O base and bad! What comfort ? None for me!' 75 
To whom remorseful Cyril, ' Yet I pray 
Take comfort. Live, dear lady, for your child ! ' 
At which she lifted up her voice and cried. 



canto v] A MEDLEY 65 

' Ah me, my babe, my blossom, ah, my child, 
My one sweet child, whom I shall see no more! 80 

For now will cruel Ida keep her back ; 
And either she will die from want of care, 
Or sicken with ill-usage, when they say 
The child is hers — for every little fault, 
The child is hers. And they will beat my girl 85 

Remembering her mother. O my flower! 
Or they will take her, they will make her hard, 
And she will pass me by in after-life 
With some cold reverence worse than were she dead. 
Ill mother that I was to leave her there, 9° 

To lag behind, scared by the cry they made, 
The horror of the shame among them all. 
But I will go and sit beside the doors, 
And make a wild petition night and day, 
Until they hate to hear me like a wind 95 

Wailing for ever, till they open to me, 
And lay my little blossom at my feet, 
My babe, my sweet Aglaia, my one child. 
And I will take her up and go my way, 
And satisfy my soul with kissing her. 100 

Ah ! what might that man not deserve of me 
Who gave me back my child ? ' 'Be comforted, ' 
Said Cyril, ' you shall have it.' But again 
She veil'd her brows, and prone she sank, and so, 
Like tender things that being caught feign death, 105 

Spoke not, nor stirr'd. 

By this a murmur ran 
Thro' all the camp, and inward raced the scouts 
With rumor of Prince Arac hard at hand. 
We left her by the woman, and without 
Found the gray kings at parle. And ' Look you, ' cried 



66 THE PRINCESS [canto v 

My father, ' that our compact be fulfill'' d. iii 

You have spoilt this child; she laughs at you and man. 
She wrongs herself, her sex, and me, and him. 
But red-faced war has rods of steel and fire. 
She yields, or war. ' 

Then Gama turn'd to me. 115 

' We fear, indeed, you spent a stormy time 
With our strange girl. And yet they say that still 
You love her. Give us, then, your mind at large. 
How say you, war or not ? ' 

' Not war, if possible, 

king,' I said, ' lest from the abuse of war, 120 
'The desecrated shrine, the trampled year, 

The smouldering homestead, and the household flower 

Torn from the lintel — all the common wrong — 

A smoke go up thro' which I loom to her 

Three times a monster. Now she lightens scorn 125 

At him that mars her plan, but then would hate 

(And every voice she talk'd with ratify it, 

And every face she look'd on justify it) 

The general foe. More soluble is this knot 

By gentleness than war. I want her love. 130 

What were I nigher this altho' we dash'd 

Your cities into shards with catapults ? 

She would not love; — or brought her chain' d, a slave, 

The lifting of whose eyelash is my lord ? 

Not ever would she love, but brooding turn 135 

The book of scorn, till all my flitting chance 

Were caught within the record of her wrongs 

And crush' d to death. And rather, Sire, than this 

1 would the old God of war himself were dead, 
Forgotten, rusting an his iron hills, 140 
Rotting on some wild shore with ribs of wreck, 



canto v] A MEDLEY 6? 

Or like an old-world mammoth bulk'd in ice, 
Not to be molten out. ' 

And roughly spake 
My father, ' Tut, you know them not, the girls. 
Boy, when I hear you prate I almost think !45 

That idiot legend credible. Look you, Sir ! 
Man is the hunter ; woman is his game. 
The sleek and shining creatures of the chase, 
We hunt them for the beauty of their skins. 
They love us for it, and we ride them down. I5 o 

Wheedling and siding with them ! Out ! for shame ! 
Boy, there 's no rose that 's half so dear to them 
As he that does the thing they dare not do, 
Breathing and sounding beauteous battle, comes 
With the air of the trumpet round him, and leaps in 155 
Among the women, snares them by the score 
Flatter' d and fluster' d, wins, tho' dash'd with death 
He reddens what he kisses. Thus I won 
Your mother, a good mother, a good wife, 
Worth winning. But this firebrand — gentleness 160 

To such as her ! If Cyril spake her true, 
To catch a dragon in a cherry net, 
To trip a tigress with a gossamer, 
Were wisdom to it.' 

' Yea, but, Sire, ' I cried, 
' Wild natures need wise curbs. The soldier ? No. 165 
What dares not Ida do that she should prize 
The soldier? I beheld her, when she rose 
The yesternight, and storming in extremes 
Stood for her cause, and flung defiance down 
Gagelike to man, and had not shunn'd the death, I7 o 

No, not the soldier's. Yet I hold her, king, 
True woman ; but you clash them all in one, 



68 THE PRINCESS [canto v 

That have as many differences as we. 

The violet varies from the lily as far 

As oak from elm. One loves the soldier, one 175 

The silken priest of peace, one this, one that, 

And some unworthily ; their sinless faith, 

A maiden moon that sparkles on a sty, 

Glorifying clown and satyr ; whence they need 

More breadth of culture. Is not Ida right? ^Zo 

They worth it? Truer to the law within ? 

Severer in the logic of a life ? 

Twice as magnetic to sweet influences 

Of earth and heaven ? And she of whom you speak, 

My mother, looks as whole as some serene 185 

Creation minted in the golden moods 

Of sovereign artists ; not a thought, a touch, 

But pure as lines of green that streak the white . 

Of the first snowdrop's inner leaves ; I say, 

Not like the piebald miscellany, man, I9 o 

Bursts of great heart and slips in sensual mire, 

But whole and one. And take them all-in-all, 

Were we ourselves but half as good, as kind, 

As truthful, much that Ida claims as right 

Had ne'er been mooted, but as frankly theirs i 95 

As dues of Nature. To our point : not war ; 

Lest I lose all.* 

' Nay, nay, you spake but sense,' 
Said Gama. ' We remember love ourself 
In our sweet youth. We did not rate him then 
This red-hot iron to be shaped with blows. 2 oo 

You talk almost like Ida. She can talk ; 
And there is something in it as you say. 
But you talk kindlier. We esteem you for it, — 
He seems a gracious and a gallant Prince, 






canto v] A MEDLEY 69 

I would he had our daughter. For the rest, 205 

Our own detention, why, the causes weigh' d, 

Fatherly fears — you us'd us courteously — 

We would do much to gratify your Prince — 

We pardon it ; and for your ingress here 

Upon the skirt and fringe of our fair land, 210 

You did but come as goblins in the night, 

Nor in the furrow broke the ploughman's head, 

Nor burnt the grange, nor buss'd the milking-maid, 

Nor robb'd the farmer of his bowl of cream. 

But let your Prince (our royal word upon it, 215 

He comes back safe) ride with us to our lines, 

And speak with Arac. Arac's word is thrice 

As ours with Ida : something may be done — 

I know not what — and ours shall see us friends. 

You, likewise, our late guests, if so you will, 220 

Follow us : who knows ? We four may build some plan 

Foursquare to opposition.' 

Here he reach' d 
White hands of farewell to my sire, who growl' d 
An answer which, half-muffled in his beard, 
Let so much out as gave us leave to go. 225 

Then rode we with the old king across the lawns 
Beneath huge trees, a thousand rings of Spring 
In every bole, a song on every spray 
Of birds that piped their Valentines, and woke 
Desire in me to infuse my tale of love 230 

In the old king's ears, who promis'd help, and ooz'd 
All o'er with honey' d answer as we rode ; 
And blossom-fragrant slipp'd the heavy dews 
Gather' d by night and peace, with each light air 
On our mail' d heads. But other thoughts than peace 235 



7° THE PRINCESS [canto v 

Burn'd in us, when we saw the embattled squares 

And squadrons of the Prince, trampling the flowers 

With clamor : for among them rose a cry 

As if to greet the king. They made a halt ; 

The horses yell'd ; they clash' d their arms ; the drum 240 

Beat ; merrily-blowing shrill' d the martial fife; 

And in the blast and bray of the long horn 

And serpent-throated bugle, undulated 

The banner. Anon to meet us lightly pranc'd 

Three captains out ; nor ever had I seen 245 

Such thews of men. The midmost and the highest 

Was Arac. All about his motion clung 

The shadow of his sister, as the beam 

Of the East, that play'd upon them, made them glance 

Like those three stars of the airy Giant's zone, 250 

That glitter burnish' d by the frosty dark ; 

And as the fiery Sirius alters hue, 

And bickers into red and emerald, shone 

Their morions, wash'd with morning, as they came. 

And I that prated peace, when first I heard 255 

War-music, felt the blind wild-beast of force, 
Whose home is in the sinews of a man, 
Stir in me as to strike. Then took the king 
His three broad sons ; with now a wandering hand 
And now a pointed finger, told them all. 260 

A common light of smiles at our disguise 
Broke from their lips, and, ere the windy jest 
Had labor' d down within his ample lungs, 
The genial giant, Arac, roll'd himself 
Thrice in the saddle, then burst out in words : 265 

* Our land invaded, 'sdeath ! and he himself 
Your captive, yet my father wills not war. 



canto v] A MEDLEY *] I 

And, 'sdeath ! myself, what care I, war or no ? 

But then this question of your troth remains. 

And there 's a downright honest meaning in her. 270 

She flies too high, she flies too high ! And yet 

She ask'd but space and fair-play for her scheme. 

She press' d and press' d it on me — I myself, 

What know I of these things? But, life and soul ! 

I thought her half-right talking of her wrongs. 275 

I say she flies too high, 'sdeath! what of that? 

I take her for the flower of womankind, 

And so I often told her, right or wrong. 

And, Prince, she can be sweet to those she loves, 

And, right or wrong, I care not. This is all : 280 

I stand upon her side. She made me swear it — 

'Sdeath ! — and with solemn rites by candle-light — 

Swear by Saint something — I forget her name — 

Her that talk'd down the fifty wisest men ; 

She was a princess too. And so I swore. 285 

Come, this is all; she will not. Waive your claim. 

If not, the foughten field, what else, at once 

Decides it, 'sdeath ! against my father's will.' 

I lagg'd in answer, loth to render up 
My precontract, and loth by brainless war 290 

To cleave the rift of difference deeper yet ; 
Till one of those two brothers, half aside 
And fingering at the hair about his lip, 
To prick us on to combat, ' Like to like ! 
The woman's garment hid the woman's heart.' 295 

A taunt that clench' d his purpose like a blow ! 
For fiery-short was Cyril's counter-scoff, 
And sharp I answer' d, touch' d upon the point 



J 2 THE PRINCESS [canto v 

Where idle boys are cowards to their shame, — 

' Decide it here : why not ? We are three to three. ' 30° 

Then spake the third, ' But three to three ? no more ? 
No more, and in our noble sister's cause ? 
More, more, for honor ! Every captain waits 
Hungry for honor, angry for his king. 
More, more, some fifty on a side, that each 305 

May breathe himself, and quick, by overthrow 
Of these or those, the question settled die.' 

'Yea,' answer' d I, ' for this wild wreath of air, 
This flake of rainbow flying on the highest 
Foam of men's deeds — this honor, if ye will. 310 

It needs must be for honor if at all. 
Since, what decision ? If we fail, we fail, 
And if we win, we fail. She would not keep 
Her compact.' ' 'Sdeath ! but we will send to her,' 
Said Arac, ' worthy reasons why she should 3 T 5 

Bide by this issue. Let our missive thro', 
And you shall have her answer by the word.' 

' Boys ! ' shriek' d the old king, but vainlier than a hen 
To her false daughters in the pool ; for none 
Regarded. Neither seem'd there more to say. 320 

Back rode we to my father's camp, and found 
He thrice had sent a herald to the gates, 
To learn if Ida yet would cede our claim, 
Or by denial flush her babbling wells 

With her own people's life. Three times he went. 325 
The first, he blew and blew, but none appear' d. 
He batter' d at the doors; none came. The next, 
An awful voice within had warn'd him thence. 



canto v] A MEDLEY 73 

The third, and those eight daughters of the plough 

Came sallying thro' the gates, and caught his hair, 330 

And so belabor' d him on rib and cheek 

They made him wild. Not less one glance he caught 

Thro' open doors of Ida station' d there 

Unshaken, clinging to her purpose, firm 

Tho' compass' d by two armies and the noise 335 

Of arms ; and standing like a stately pine 

Set in a cataract on an island-crag, 

When storm is on the heights, and right and left 

Suck'd from the dark heart of the long hills roll 

The torrents, dash'd to the vale. And yet her will 340 

Bred will in me to overcome it or fall. 

But when I told the king that I was pledg'd 
To fight in tourney for my bride, he clash' d 
His iron palms together with a cry: 

Himself would tilt it out among the lads. 345 

But overborne by all his bearded lords 
With reasons drawn from age and state, perforce 
He yielded, wroth and red, with fierce demur ; 
And many a bold knight started up in heat, 
And sware to combat for my claim till death. 35Q 

All on this side the palace ran the field 
Flat on the garden-wall ; and likewise here, 
Above the garden's glowing blossom-belts, 
A column' d entry shone and marble stairs, 
And great bronze valves, emboss' d with Tomyris 355 

And what she did to Cyrus after fight, 
But now fast barr'd. So here upon the flat 
All that long morn the lists were hammer' d up, 
And all that morn the heralds to and fro, 



74 THE PRINCESS [canto v 

With message and defiance, went and came ; 360 

Last, Ida's answer, in a royal hand, 
But shaken here and there, and rolling words 
Oration-like. I kiss'd it and I read : 

' O brother, you have known the pangs we felt, 
What heats of indignation when we heard 365 

Of those that iron-cramp'd their women's feet ; 
Of lands in which at the altar the poor bride 
Gives her harsh groom for bridal-gift a scourge ; 
Of living hearts that crack within the fire 
Where smoulder their dead despots; and of those, — 370 
Mothers, — that, all prophetic pity, fling 
Their pretty maids in the running flood, and swoops 
The vulture, beak and talon, at the heart 
Made for all noble motion. And I saw 
That equal baseness liv'd in sleeker times 375 

With smoother men : the old leaven leaven' d all. 
Millions of throats would bawl for civil rights, 
No woman named. Therefore I set my face 
Against all men, and liv'd but for mine own. 
Far off from men I built a fold for them. 3 8 ° 

I stored it full of rich memorial ; 
I fenc'd it round with gallant institutes, 
And biting laws to scare the beasts of prey, 
And prosper' d; till a rout of saucy boys 
Brake on us at our books, and marr'd our peace, 385 

Mask'd like our maids, blustering I know not what 
Of insolence and love, some pretext held 
Of baby troth, invalid, since my will 
Seal'd not the bond — the striplings ! — for their sport ! — 
I tamed my leopards : shall I not tame these ? 39° 

Or you? or I? for since you think me touch' d 



canto v] A MEDLEY 75 

In honor — what ! I would not aught of false — 

Is not our cause pure ? And whereas I know 

Your prowess, Arac, and what mother's blood 

You draw from, fight. You failing, I abide 395 

What end soever. Fail you will not. Still, 

Take not his life ; he risk'd it for my own. 

His mother lives. Yet whatsoe'er you do, 

Fight and fight well ; strike and strike home. O dear 

Brothers, the woman's Angel guards you, you 400 

The sole men to be mingled with our cause, 

The sole men we shall prize in the after-time, 

Your very armor hallow' d, and your statues 

Rear'd, sung to, when, this gadfly brush' d aside, 

We plant a solid foot into the Time, 405 

And mould a generation strong to move 

With claim on claim from right to right, till she 

Whose name is yoked with children's, know herself; 

And Knowledge in our own land make her free, 

And, ever following those two crowned twins, 410 

Commerce and Conquest, shower the fiery grain 

Of freedom broadcast over all that orbs 

Between the Northern and the Southern morn.' 

Then came a postscript dash'd across the rest. 
1 See that there be no traitors in your camp. 4*5 

We seem a nest of traitors — none to trust 
Since our arms fail'd — this Egypt-plague of men! 
Almost our maids were better at their homes, 
Than thus man-girdled here. Indeed I think 
Our chiefest comfort is the little child 420 

Of one unworthy mother ; which she left. 
She shall not have it back ; the child shall grow 
To prize the authentic mother of her mind. 



7& THE PRINCESS [canto v 

I took it for an hour in mine own bed 
This morning. There the tender orphan hands 425 

Felt at my heart, and seem'd to charm from thence 
The wrath I nurs'd against the world. Farewell.' 

I ceas'd; he said, ' Stubborn, but she may sit 
Upon a king's right hand in thunder-storms, 
And breed up warriors ! See now, tho' yourself 430 

Be dazzled by the wildfire Love to sloughs 
That swallow common sense, the spindling king, 
This Gama swamp' d in lazy tolerance. 
When the man wants weight, the woman takes it up, 
And topples down the scales. But this is fix'd 345 

As are the roots of earth and base of all : 
Man for the field and woman for the hearth ; 
Man for the sword and for the needle she ; 
Man with the head and woman with the heart ; 
Man to command and woman to obey ; 440 

All else confusion. Look you ! The gray mare 
Is ill to live with, when her whinny shrills 
From tile to scullery, and her small goodman 
Shrinks in his arm-chair while the fires of hell 
Mix with his hearth. But you — she 's yet a colt — 445 
Take, break her. Strongly groom' d and straitly curb'd 
She might not rank with those detestable 
That let the bantling scald at home, and brawl 
Their rights or wrongs like potherbs in the street. 
They say she 's comely ; there 's the fairer chance. 450 
/ like her none the less for rating at her ! 
Besides, the woman wed is not as /e, 
But suffers change of frame. A lusty brace 
Of twins may weed her of her folly. Boy, 
The bearing and the training of a child 455 



canto v] A MEDLEY 77 

Is woman's wisdom.' 

Thus the hard old king. 
I took my leave, for it was nearly noon. 
I pored upon her letter which I held, 
And on the little clause, ' take not his life ; ' 
I mus'd on that wild morning in the woods, 460 

And on the ' Follow, follow, thou shalt win. ' 
I thought on all the wrathful king had said, 
And how the strange betrothment was to end. 
Then I remember' d that burnt sorcerer's curse 
That one should fight with shadows and should fall ; 4 6 5 
And like a flash the weird affection came. 
King, camp, and college turn'd to hollow shows; 
I seem'd to move in old memorial tilts, 
And doing battle with forgotten ghosts, 
To dream myself the shadow of a dream ; 470 

And ere I woke it was the point of noon, 
The lists were ready. Empanopli'd and plum'd 
We enter' d in, and waited, fifty there 
Opposed to fifty, till the trumpet blared 
At the barrier like a wild horn in a land 475 

Of echoes, and a moment, and once more 
The trumpet, and again ; at which the storm 
Of galloping hoofs bare on the ridge of spears 
And riders front to front, until they closed 
In conflict with the crash of shivering points, 480 

And thunder. Yet it seem'd a dream, I dream' d 
Of fighting. On his haunches rose the steed, 
And into fiery splinters leapt the lance, 
And out of stricken helmets sprang the fire. 
Part sat like rocks ; part reel'd but kept their seats ; 485 
Part roll'd on the earth and rose again and drew ; 
Part stumbled mix'd with floundering horses. Down 



78 THE PRINCESS [canto V 

From those two bulks at Arac's side, and down 

From Arac's arm, as from a giant's flail, 

The large blows rain'd, as here and everywhere 490 

He rode the mellay, lord of the ringing lists, 

And all the plain, — brand, mace, and shaft, and shield — 

Shock' d, like an iron-clanging anvil bang'd 

With hammers ; till I thought, can this be he 

From Gama's dwarfish loins? If this be so, 495 

The mother makes us most — and in my dream 

I glanc'd aside, and saw the palace-front 

Alive with fluttering scarfs and ladies' eyes, 

And highest, among the statues, statuelike, 

Between a cymbal' d Miriam and a Jael, 500 

With Psyche's babe, was Ida watching us, 

A single band of gold about her hair, 

Like a Saint's glory up in heaven ; but she 

No saint — inexorable — no tenderness — 

Too hard, too cruel. Yet she sees me fight, 505 

Yea, let her see me fall ! With that I drave 

Among the thickest and bore down a Prince, 

And Cyril one. Yea, let me make my dream 

All that I would. But that large-moulded man, 

His visage all agrin as at a wake, 510 

Made at me thro' the press, and, staggering back 

With stroke on stroke the horse and horseman, came 

As comes a pillar of electric cloud, 

Flaying the roofs and sucking up the drains, 

And shadowing down the champaign till it strikes 515 

On a wood, and takes, and breaks, and cracks, and splits, 

And twists the grain with such a roar that Earth 

Reels, and the herdsmen cry ; for everything 

Gave way before him. Only Florian, he 

That lov'd me closer than his own right eye, 52c 



canto v] A MEDLEY 79 

Thrust in between. But Arac rode him down : 

And Cyril seeing it, push'd against the Prince, 

With Psyche's color round his helmet, tough, 

Strong, supple, sinew-corded, apt at arms; 

But tougher, heavier, stronger, he that smote 525 

And threw him. Last I spurr'd ; I felt my veins 

Stretch with fierce heat. A moment hand to hand, 

And sword to sword, and horse to horse we hung, 

Till I struck out and shouted. The blade glanc'd, 

I did but shear a feather, and dream and truth 530 

Flow'd from me. Darkness closed me ; and I fell. 

Home they brought her warrior dead ; 

She nor swoon'd nor utter'd cry : 
All her maidens, watching, said, 

' She must weep or she will die.' 

Then they prais'd him, soft and low, 

Call'd him worthy to be loved, 
Truest friend and noblest foe ; 

Yet she neither spoke nor moved. 

Stole a maiden from her place, 

Lightly to the warrior stept, 
Took the face-cloth from the face ; 

Yet she neither moved nor wept. 

Rose a nurse of ninety years, 

Set his child upon her knee — 
Like summer tempest came her tears — 

' Sweet my child, I live for thee.' 



80 THE PRINCESS [canto vi 



VI. 

My dream had never died or liv'd again. 
As in some mystic middle state I lay. 
Seeing I saw not, hearing not I heard ; 
Tho', if I saw not, yet they told me all 
So often that I speak as having seen. 5 

For so it seem'd, or so they said to me, 
That all things grew more tragic and more strange ; 
That when our side was vanquish' d and my cause 
For ever lost, there went up a great cry, 
i The Prince is slain.' My father heard and ran 10 

In on the lists, and there unlaced my casque 
And grovell'd on my body, and after him 
Came Psyche, sorrowing for Aglai'a. 

But high upon the palace Ida stood 
With Psyche's babe in arm ; there on the roofs 15 

Like that great dame of Lapidoth she sang. 

' Our enemies have fallen, have fallen : the seed, 
The little seed they laugh'd at in the dark, 
Has risen and cleft the soil, and grown a bulk 
Of spanless girth, that lays on every side 20 

A thousand arms and rushes to the sun. 

' Our enemies have fallen, have fallen. They came ; 
The leaves were wet with women's tears ; they heard 
A noise of songs they would not understand ; 
They mark'd it with the red cross to the fall, 25 

And would have strown it, and are fallen themselves. 



canto vi] A MEDLEY 3 1 

' Our enemies have fallen, have fallen. They came, 
The woodmen with their axes : lo the tree ! 
But we will make it faggots for the hearth, 
And shape it plank and beam for roof and floor, 30 

And boats and bridges for the use of men. 

' Our enemies have fall'n, have fall'n. They struck ; 
With their own blows they hurt themselves, nor knew 
There dwelt an iron nature in the grain. 

The glittering axe was broken in their arms, 35 

Their arms were shatter'd to the shoulder blade. 

' Our enemies have fall'n, but this shall grow 
A night of Summer from the heat, a breadth 
Of Autumn, dropping fruits of power ; and roll'd 
With music in the growing breeze of Time, 40 

The tops shall strike from star to star, the fangs 
Shall move the stony bases of the world. 



1 And now, O maids, behold our sanctuary 
Is violate, our laws broken. Fear we not 
To break them more in their behoof, whose arms 45 

Champion' d our cause and won it with a day 
Blanch' d in our annals, and perpetual feast, 
When dames and heroines of the golden year 
Shall strip a hundred hollows bare of Spring, 
To rain an April of ovation round 50 

Their statues, borne aloft, the three. But come, 
We will be liberal, since our rights are won. 
Let them not lie in the tents with coarse mankind, 
111 nurses ; but descend, and proffer these 
The brethren of our blood and cause, that there 55 

Lie bruis'd and maim'd, the tender ministries 
Of female hands and hospitality.' 



THE PA ro ti 

- e spoke, and with the babe yet in her arms, 
Descending, burst the great bronze valves, and led 
A :.'.izti rv-iiif ::. :::. .. - :::■-- : r : :--:■'.. '■•' 

Some cowFd, and some bare-headed, on they came, 
Their feet in flowers, her loveliest. By them went 
The enamored air sighing, and on their curls 
r :::. Aie ':. z'z. ::tr :Ae : -: . ~ :■. e::r. r A A. 

: over them the tremulous isles of light 
Slided, they moving under shade ; but Blanche 

stance followed: so they came. Anon 
Thro* open field into the lists they wound 
Timorously : and as the leader of the herd 
That holds a stately fretwork to the sun, 
.'-.- i :":'.'.:- : :; :y :.':...:. i': L :..: ::e?. 
Steps with a tender foot, light as on air, 

To where her wounded brethren lay : there stay'd ; 
Knelt on one knee, — the child on one, — and pre . 

T.-.7.: r_L- ii. i.~. 1 ::'.. : :r.fr_: iea: '.... r:e:s. 

A.:, i .-...- irr :: ; ::. . .:.-"'. ::::. :.;:.. tf 

And said, ' You shall not lie in the tents but here, 

A:. : :..r: i :y : —A: ■':.: ... y :_ :': .....: ■:.: ::r. : 

A 

T.t:.. - ■':. eA.e: ~: e: :A = :: i -. iJLir.ce. 
She passed my way. Up started from my side 

Ave :.: '.::i. _...-.._ -< .:':. :..-. ■■ A el: '.t?s eye. 

Dishelm'd and mote, and motionlessly pale, 
Cold ev'n to her, she sigh'd ; and when she 

The :.i__i- i ::.:.-: « A;e ini re" e:er. : ' ei: : 
Of grisly twine, all dabbled with the blood 

. : :..s ; :. ; : . A. . lie: : - ' '■ .' :'.'. ::" : i:~ 



canto vi] A MEDLEY S$ 

Tortur'd her mouth, and o'er her forehead pass'd 90 

A shadow, and her hue chang'd, and she said : 

1 He saved my life ; my brother slew him for it ;' 

No more ; at which the king in bitter scorn 

Drew from my neck the painting and the tress, 

And held them up. She saw them, and a day 95 

Rose from the distance on her memory, 

When the good queen, her mother, shore the tress 

With kisses, ere the days of Lady Blanche. 

And then once more she look'd at my pale face : 

Till understanding all the foolish work 100 

Of Fancy, and the bitter close of all, 

Her iron will was broken in her mind ; 

Her noble heart was molten in her breast. 

She bow'd, she set the child on the earth ; she laid 

A feeling finger on my brows, and presently 105 

' O Sire,' she said, ' he lives ; he is not dead. 

O let me have him with my brethren here 

In our own palace. We will tend on him 

Like one of these ; if so, by any means, 

To lighten this great clog of thanks, that make no 

Our progress falter to the woman's goal.' 

She said : but at the happy word ' he lives ' 
My father stoop' d, re-father' d o'er my wounds. 
So those two foes above my fallen life, 
With brow to brow like night and evening mix'd 115 

Their dark and gray, while Psyche ever stole 
A little nearer, till the babe that by us, 
Half-lapp'd in glowing gauze and golden brede, 
Lay like a new-fallen meteor on the grass, 
Uncared for, spied its mother and began 120 

A blind and babbling laughter, and to dance 



84 THE PRINCESS [canto vi 

Its body, and reach its fatling innocent arms 

And lazy lingering fingers. She the appeal 

Brook' d not, but clamoring out ' Mine — mine — not yours ; 

It is not yours, but mine. Give me the child ! ' 125 

Ceas'd all on tremble. Piteous was the cry. 

So stood the unhappy mother open -mouth' d, 

And turn'd each face her way. Wan was her cheek 

With hollow watch, her blooming mantle torn, 

Red grief and mother's hunger in her eye, 130 

And down dead-heavy sank her curls, and half 

The sacred mother's bosom, panting, burst 

The laces toward her babe. But she nor cared 

Nor knew it, clamoring on, till Ida heard, 

Look'd up, and rising slowly from me, stood 135 

Erect and silent, striking with her glance 

The mother, me, the child. But he that lay 

Beside us, Cyril, batter' d as he was, 

Trail' d himself up on one knee. Then he drew 

Her robe to meet his lips, and down she look'd 140 

At the arm'd man sideways, pitying as it seem'd, 

Or self-involv'd. But when she learn' d his face, 

Remembering his ill-omen' d song, arose 

Once more thro' all her height, and o'er him grew 

Tall as a figure lengthen' d on the sand 145 

When the tide ebbs in sunshine, and he said : 

1 O fair and strong and terrible ! Lioness 
That with your long locks play the lion's mane ! 
But Love and Nature, these are two more terrible 
And stronger. See, your foot is on our necks, 150 

We vanquish' d, you the victor of your will. 
What would you more ? Give her the child ! Remain 
Orb'd in your isolation. He is dead, 



canto vi] A MEDLEY 85 

Or all as dead. Henceforth we let you be. 

Win you the hearts of women ; and beware 155 

Lest, where you seek the common love of these, 

The common hate with the revolving wheel 

Should drag you down, and some great Nemesis 

Break from a darken' d future, crown' d with fire, 

And tread you out for ever. But howsoe'er 160 

Fix'd in yourself, never in your own arms 

To hold your own, deny not hers to her, 

Give her the child ! O if, I say, you keep 

One pulse that beats true woman, if you lov'd 

The breast that fed or arm that dandled you, 165 

Or own one port of sense not flint to prayer, 

Give her the child ! Or if you scorn to lay it, 

Yourself, in hands so lately clasp' d with yours, 

Or speak to her, your dearest, her one fault 

The tenderness, not yours, that could not kill, 170 

Give me it ; /will give it her.' 

He said. 
At first her eye with slow dilation roll'd 
Dry flame, she listening ; after sank and sank 
And, into mournful twilight mellowing, dwelt 
Full on the child. She took it. ' Pretty bud ! i75 

Lily of the vale ! Half-open' d bell of the woods ! 
Sole comfort of my dark hour, when a world 
Of traitorous friend and broken system made 
No purple in the distance, mystery, 

Pledge of a love not to be mine, farewell ! 180 

These men are hard upon us as of old, 
We two must part; and yet how fain was I 
To dream thy cause embraced in mine, to think 
I might be something to thee, when I felt 
Thy helpless warmth about my barren breast 185 



86 THE PRINCESS [canto vi 

In the dead prime. But may thy mother prove 

As true to thee as false, false, false to me ! 

And, if thou needs must bear the yoke, I wish it 

Gentle as freedom ' — here she kiss'd it ; then — 

' All good go with thee ! Take it, Sir,' and so 19° 

Laid the soft babe in his hard-mailed hands, 

Who turn'd half-round to Psyche as she sprang 

To meet it, with an eye that swum in thanks ; 

Then felt it sound and whole from head to foot, 

And hugg'd and never hugg'd it close enough, 195 

And in her hunger mouth' d and mumbled it, 

And hid her bosom with it ; after that 

Put on more calm and added suppliantly : 

* We two were friends. I go to mine own land 
For ever ; find some other. As for me ■ 200 

I scarce am fit for your great plans ; yet speak to me, 
Say one soft word and let me part forgiven.' 

But Ida spoke not, rapt upon the child. 
Then Arac : ' Ida — 'sdeath ! you blame the man ; 
You wrong yourselves — the woman is so hard 205 

Upon the woman. Come, a grace to me ! 
I am your warrior ; I and mine have fought 
Your battle. Kiss her ; take her hand. She weeps. 
'Sdeath ! I would sooner fight thrice o'er than see it.' 

But Ida spoke not, gazing on the ground, 210 

And reddening in the furrows of his chin, 
And moved beyond his custom, Gama said : 

'I 've heard that there is iron in the blood, 
And I believe it. Not one word ? Not one ? 



canto vi] A MEDLEY 87 

Whence drew you this steel temper? Not from me, 215 

Not from your mother, now a saint with saints. 

She said you had a heart — I heard her say it — 

" Our Ida has a heart" — just ere she died — 

" But see that some one with authority 

Be near her still. ' ' And I — I sought for one — 220 

All people said she had authority — 

The Lady Blanche. Much profit ! Not one word ; 

No ! tho' your father sues. See how you stand 

Stiff as Lot's wife, and all the good knights maim'd, — 

I trust that there is no one hurt to death, 225 

For your wild whim. And was it then for this, 

Was it for this we gave our palace up, 

Where we withdrew from summer heats and state, 

And had our wine and chess beneath the planes, 

And many a pleasant hour with her that 's gone, 230 

Ere you were born to vex us ? Is it kind ? 

Speak to her, I say. Is this not she of whom, 

When first she came, all flush' d you said to me, 

Now had you got a friend of your own age, 

Now could you share your thought; now should men see 235 

Two women faster welded in one love 

Than pairs of wedlock? she you walk'd with, she 

You talk'd with, whole nights long, up in the tower, 

Of sine and arc, spheroid and azimuth, 

And right ascension, Heaven knows what ; and now 240 

A word, but one, one little kindly word, 

Not one to spare her. Out upon you, flint ! 

You love nor her, nor me, nor any. Nay, 

You shame your mother's judgment too. Not one? 

You will not ? Well — no heart have you, or such 245 

As fancies like the vermin in a nut 



SS THE PRINCESS [canto VI 

Have fretted all to dust and bitterness.' 
So said the small king moved beyond his wont. 
^^ 

But Ida stood nor spoke, drain' d of her force 
By many a varying influence and so long. 250 

Down thro' her limbs a drooping languor wept : 
Her head a little bent ; and on her mouth 
A doubtful smile dwelt like a clouded moon 
In a still water. Then brake out my sire, 
Lifting his grim head from my wounds : ' O you, 255 

Woman, whom we thought woman even now, 
And were half fool'd to let you tend our son, 
Because he might have wish'd it — but we see 
The accomplice of your madness unforgiven, 
And think that you might mix his draught with death, 260 
When your skies change again. The rougher hand 
Is safer. On to the tents. Take up the Prince.'' 
He rose, and while each ear was prick' d to attend 
A tempest, thro' the cloud that dimm'd her broke 
A genial warmth and light once more, and shone 265 

Thro' glittering drops on her sad friend. 

' Come hither, 

Psyche,' she cried out, 'embrace me, come, 
Quick while I melt. Make reconcilement sure 
With one that cannot keep her mind an hour. 

Come to the hollow heart they slander so ! 270 

Kiss and be friends, like children being chid ! 
/ seem no more ; / want forgiveness too. 

1 should have had to do with none but maids, 
That have no links with men. Ah false but dear, 

Dear traitor, too much lov'd, why? — why? — Yet see, 275 
Before these kings we embrace you yet once more 
With all forgiveness, all oblivion, 



canto vi] A MEDLEY 89 

And trust, not love, you less. 

And now, O Sire, 
Grant me your son, to nurse, to wait upon him, 
Like mine own brother. For my debt to him, 280 

This nightmare weight of gratitude, I know it; 
Taunt me no more. Yourself and yours shall have 
Free adit. We will scatter all our maids 
Till happier times each to her proper hearth. 
What use to keep them here— now ? Grant my prayer. 285 
Help, father, brother, help; speak to the king. 
Thaw this male nature to some touch of that 
Which kills me with myself, and drags me down 
From my fix'd height to mob me up with all 
The soft and milky rabble of womankind, 2qo 

Poor weakling ev'n as they are.' 

Passionate tears 
Follow'd. The king replied not. Cyril said: 
'Your brother, Lady,— Florian,— ask for him 
Of your great Head— for he is wounded too— 
That you may tend upon him with the Prince.' 2Q5 

'Ay, so,' said Ida with a bitter smile, 
' Our laws are broken ; let him enter too. ' 
Then Violet, she that sang the mournful song, 
And had a cousin tumbled on the plain, 
Petition'd too for him. * Ay, so,' she said, 3O0 

< I stagger in the stream ■ I cannot keep 
My heart an eddy from the brawling hour. 
We break our laws with ease, but let it be. ' 
'Ay, so? ' said Blanche : 'Amazed am I to hear 
Your Highness. But your Highness breaks with ease 305 
The law your Highness did not make : 't was I. 
I had been wedded wife, I knew mankind, 



90 THE PRINCESS [canto VI 

And block' d them out. But these men came to woo 
Your Highness — verily I think to win.' 

So she, and turn'd askance a wintry eye. 310 

But Ida, with a voice that, like a bell 
Toll'd by an earthquake in a trembling tower, 
Rang ruin, answer' d full of grief and scorn : 

'Fling our doors wide ! All, all, not one, but all, 
Not only he, but by my mother's soul, 315 

Whatever man lies wounded, friend or foe, 
Shall enter, if he will ! Let our girls flit, 
Till the storm die ! But had you stood by us, 
The roar that breaks the Pharos from his base 
Had left us rock. She fain would sting us too, 320 

But shall not. Pass, and mingle with your likes. . 
We brook no further insult, but are gone.' 

She turn'd ; the very nape of her white neck 
Was rosed with indignation. But the Prince 
Her brother came ; the king her father charm' d 325 

Her wounded soul with words. Nor did mine own 
Refuse her proffer, lastly gave his hand. 

Then us they lifted up, dead weights, and bare 
Straight to the doors. To them the doors gave way 
Groaning, and in the Vestal entry shriek' d 330 

The virgin marble under iron heels. 
And on they moved and gain'd the hall, and there 
Rested. But great the crush was, and each base, 
To left and right, of those tall columns drown' d 
In silken fluctuation and the swarm 335 

Of female whisperers. At the further end 



canto vi] A MEDLEY 9 1 

Was Ida by the throne, the two great cats 

Close by her, like supporters on a shield, 

Bow -back' d with fear. But in the centre stood 

The common men with rolling eyes. Amazed 34Q 

They glared upon the women, and aghast 

The women stared at these, all silent, save 

When armor clash' d or jingled, while the day, 

Descending, struck athwart the hall, and shot 

A flying splendor out of brass and steel, 345 

That o'er the statues leapt from head to head, 

Now fired an angry Pallas on the helm, 

Now set a wrathful Dian's moon on flame ; 

And now and then an echo started up, 

And shuddering fled from room to room, and died 350 

Of fright in far apartments. 

Then the voice 
Of Ida sounded, issuing ordinance. 
And me they bore up the broad stairs, and thro' 
The long-laid galleries past a hundred doors 
To one deep chamber shut from sound, and due 355 

To languid limbs and sickness; left me in it. 
And others otherwhere they laid. And all 
That afternoon a sound arose of hoof 
And chariot, many a maiden passing home 
Till happier times. But some were left of those 360 

Held sagest, and the great lords out and in, 
From those two hosts that lay beside the walls, 
Walk'd at their will, and everything was chang'd. 

Ask me no more : the moon may draw the sea ; 

The cloud may stoop from heaven and take the shape, 

With fold to fold, of mountain or of cape ; 
But O too fond, when have I answer'd thee ? 
Ask me no more. 



THE PRINCESS [canto vn 



Ask me no more : what answer should I give ? 
I love not hollow cheek or faded eye : 
Yet, O my friend, I will not have thee die ! 

Ask me no more, lest I should bid thee live ; 
Ask me no more. 

Ask me no more : thy fate and mine are seal'd : 
I strove against the stream and all in vain : 
Let the great river take me to the main : 

No more, dear love, for at a touch I yield ; 
Ask me no more. 



VII. 

So was their sanctuary violated, 
So their fair college turn'd to hospital ; 
At first with all confusion. By and by 
Sweet order liv'd again with other laws. 
A kindlier influence reign' d; and everywhere 5 

Low voices with the ministering hand 
Hung round the sick. The maidens came, they talk'd, 
They sang, they read : till she not fair began 
To gather light, and she that was became 
Her former beauty treble ; and to and fro 10 

With books, with flowers, with angel offices, 
Like creatures native unto gracious act, 
And in their own clear element, they moved. 

But sadness on the soul of Ida fell, 
And hatred of her weakness, blent with shame. 15 

Old studies fail'd ; seldom she spoke ; but oft 
Clomb to the roofs, and gazed alone for hours 
On that disastrous leaguer, swarms of men 
Darkening her female field. Void was her use, 
And she as one that climbs a peak to gaze 20 



canto vn] A MEDLEY 93 

O'er land and main, and sees a great black cloud 

Drag inward from trie deeps, a wall of night, 

Blot out the slope of sea from verge to shore, 

And suck the blinding splendor from the sand, 

And quenching lake by lake and tarn by tarn 25 

Expunge the world : so fared she gazing there ; 

So blacken' d all her world in secret, blank 

And waste it seem'd and vain ; till down she came, 

And found fair peace once more among the sick. 

And twilight dawn'd ; and morn by morn the lark 30 
Shot up and shrill' d in flickering gyres, but I 
Lay silent in the muffled cage of life. 
And twilight gloom' d ; and broader-grown the bowers 
Drew the great night into themselves, and Heaven, 
Star after star, arose and fell. But I, 35 

Deeper than those weird doubts could reach me, lay 
Quite sunder' d from the moving Universe, 
Nor knew what eye was on me, nor the hand 
That nurs'd me, more than infants in their sleep. 

But Psyche tended Florian. With her oft 40 

Melissa came ; for Blanche had gone, but left 
Her child among us, willing she should keep 
Court-favor. Here and there the small bright head, 
A light of healing, glanc'd about the couch, 
Or thro' the parted silks the tender face 45 

Peep'd, shining in upon the wounded man 
With blush and smile, a medicine in themselves 
To wile the length from languorous hours, and draw 
The sting from pain. Nor seem'd it strange that soon 
He rose up whole, and those fair charities 50 

Join'd at her side. Nor stranger seem'd that hearts 



94 THE PRINCESS [canto VII 

So gentle, so employ' d, should close in love, 

Than when two dewdrops on the petal shake 

To the same sweet air, and tremble deeper down, 

And slip at once all-fragrant into one. 55 

Less prosperously the second suit obtain' d 
At first with Psyche. Not tho' Blanche had sworn 
That after that dark night among the fields 
She needs must wed him for her own good name ; 
Not tho' he built upon the babe restored ; 60 

Nor tho' she liked him, yielded she, but fear'd 
To incense the Head once more ; till on a day 
When Cyril pleaded, Ida came behind 
Seen but of Psyche. On her foot she hung 
A moment, and she heard, at which her face 65 

A little flush' d, and she pass'd on ; but each 
Assum'd from thence a half-consent involv'd 
In stillness, plighted troth, and were at peace. 

Nor only these : Love in the sacred halls 
Held carnival at will, and flying struck 70 

With showers of random sweet on maid and man. 
Nor did her father cease to press my claim, 
Nor did mine own now reconciled ; nor yet 
Did those twin brothers, ris'n again and whole ; 
Nor Arac, satiate with his victory. 75 

But I lay still, and with me oft she sat. 
Then came a change ; for sometimes I would catch 
Her hand in wild delirium, gripe it hard, 
And fling it like a viper off, and shriek, 
1 You are not Ida ; ' clasp it once again, 80 

And call her Ida, tho' I knew her not, 






canto vn] A MEDLEY 95 

And call her sweet, as if in irony, 

And call her hard and cold, which seem'd a truth. 

And still she fear'd that I should lose my mind, 

And often she believ'd that I should die : 85 

Till out of long frustration of her care, 

And pensive tendance in the all -weary noons, 

And watches in the dead, the dark, when clocks 

Throbb'd thunder thro' the palace floors, or call'd 

On flying Time from all their silver tongues — 90 

And out of memories of her kindlier days, 

And sidelong glances at my father's grief, 

And at the happy lovers heart in heart — 

And out of hauntings of my spoken love, 

And lonely listenings to my mutter' d dream, 95 

And often feeling of the helpless hands, 

And wordless broodings on the wasted cheek— 

From all a closer interest flourish' d up, 

Tenderness touch by touch, and last, to these, 

Love, like an Alpine harebell hung with tears 100 

By some cold morning glacier ; frail at first 

And feeble, all unconscious of itself, 

But such as gather' d color day by day. 

Last I woke sane, but well-nigh close to death 
For weakness. It was evening : silent light 105 

Slept on the painted walls, wherein were wrought 
Two grand designs ; for on one side arose 
The women up in wild revolt, and storm' d 
At the Oppian law. Titanic shapes, they cramm'd 
The forum, and half-crush' d among the rest no 

A dwarf-like Cato cower' d. On the other side 
Hortensia spoke against the tax ; behind, 
A train of dames. By axe and eagle sat, 



96 THE PRINCESS [canto vii 

With all their foreheads drawn in Roman scowls, 
And half the wolf's-milk curdled in their veins, 115 

The fierce triumvirs; and before them paus'd 
Hortensia, pleading. Angry was her face. 

I saw the forms ; I knew not where I was. 
They did but look like hollow shows ; nor more 
Sweet Ida. Palm to palm she sat ; the dew 120 

Dwelt in her eyes, and softer all her shape 
And rounder seem' d. I moved ; I sigh' d. A touch 
Came round my wrist, and tears upon my hand. 
Then all for languor and self-pity ran 
Mine down my face, and with what life I had, 125 

And like a flower that cannot all unfold, 
So drench' d it is with tempest, to the sun, 
Yet, as it may, turns toward him, I on her 
Fix'd my faint eyes, and utter' d whisperingly : 

'If you be, what I think you, some sweet dream, 130 
I would but ask you to fulfil yourself. 
But if you be that Ida whom I knew, 
I ask you nothing; only, if a dream, 
Sweet dream, be perfect. I shall die to-night. 
Stoop down and seem to kiss me ere I die.' 135 

I could no more, but lay like one in trance, 
That hears his burial talk' d of by his friends, 
And cannot speak, nor move, nor make one sign, 
But lies and dreads his doom. She turn'd ; she paus'd; 
She stoop' d ; and out of languor leapt a cry ; 140 

Leapt fiery Passion from the brinks of death ; 
And I believ'd that in the living world 
My spirit closed with Ida's at the lips; 



canto vii] A MEDLEY Qj 

Till back I fell, and from mine arms she rose 

Glowing all over noble shame. And all 145 

Her falser self slipp'd from her like a robe, 

And left her woman, lovelier in her mood 

Than in her mould that other, when she came 

From barren deeps to conquer all with love ; 

And down the streaming crystal dropp'd; and she 150 

Far-fleeted by the purple island-sides, 

Naked, a double light in air and wave, 

To meet her Graces, where they deck'd her out 

For worship without end ; nor end of mine, 

Stateliest, for thee ! But mute she glided forth, 155 

Nor glanc'd behind her, and I sank and slept, 

Fill'd thro' and thro' with love, a happy sleep. 

Deep in the night I woke ; she, near me, held 
A volume of the Poets of her land. 
There to herself, all in low tones, she read. 160 

' Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white ; 
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk ; 
Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font : 
The fire-fly wakens : waken thou with me. 

'Now droops the milk-white peacock like a ghost, 165 

And like a ghost she glimmers on to me. 

' Now lies the Earth all Danae to the stars, 
And all thy heart lies open unto me. 

' Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves 
A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me. 170 

' Now folds the lily all her sweetness up, 
And slips into the bosom of the lake : 
So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip 
Into my bosom and be lost in me.' 



98 THE PRINCESS [canto vii 

I heard her turn the page ; she found a small *75 

Sweet Idyl, and once more, as low, she read . 

1 Come down, O maid, from yonder mountain height. 
What pleasure lives in height (the shepherd sang), 
In height and cold, the splendor of the hills ? 
But cease to move so near the Heavens, and cease 180 

To glide a sunbeam by the blasted pine, 
To sit a star upon the sparkling spire. 
And come, for Love is of the valley, come, 
For Love is of the valley, come thou down 
And find him ; by the happy threshold, he, 185 

Or hand in hand with Plenty in the maize, 
Or red with spirted purple of the vats, 
Or foxlike in the vine ; nor cares to walk 
With Death and Morning on the Silver Horns. 
Nor wilt thou snare him in the white ravine, 190 

Nor find him dropp'd upon the firths of ice, 
That huddling slant in furrow -cloven falls 
To roll the torrent out of dusky doors. 
But follow ; let the torrent dance thee down 
To find him in the valley ; let the wild 195 

Lean-headed Eagles yelp alone, and leave 
The monstrous ledges there to slope, and spill 
Their thousand wreaths of dangling water-smoke, 
That like a broken purpose waste in air. 

So waste not thou ; but come ; for all the vales 200 

Await thee ; azure pillars of the hearth 
Arise to thee ; the children call, and I 
Thy shepherd pipe, and sweet is every sound, 
Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sweet ; 
Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro' the lawn, 205 

The moan of doves in immemorial elms, 
And murmuring of innumerable bees.' 

So she low-toned ; while with shut eyes I lay 
Listening, then look'd. Pale was the perfect face; 
The bosom with long sighs labor' d ; and meek 210 

Seem'd the full lips, and mild the luminous eyes, 



canto vii] A MEDLEY 99 

And the voice trembled and the hand. She said 

Brokenly, that she knew it, she had fail'd 

In sweet humility ; had fail'd in all ; 

That all her labor was but as a block 215 

Left in the quarry. But she still were loth, 

She still were loth to yield herself to one 

That wholly scorn' d to help their equal rights 

Against the sons of men and barbarous laws. 

She pray'd me not to judge their cause from her 220 

That wrong' d it, sought far less for truth than power 

In knowledge : something wild within her breast, 

A greater than all knowledge, beat her down. 

And she had nurs'd me there from week to week. 

Much had she learn' d in little time. In part 225 

It was ill counsel had misled the girl 

To vex true hearts. Yet was she but a girl — 

' Ah fool, and made myself a queen of farce ! 

When comes another such ? Never, I think, 

Till the sun drop, dead, from the signs.' 

Her voice 230 
Choked, and her forehead sank upon her hands, 
And her great heart thro' all the faultful past 
Went sorrowing in a pause I dared not break ; 
Till notice of a change in the dark world 
Was lisp'd about the acacias, and a bird, 235 

That early woke to feed her little ones, 
Sent from a dewy breast a cry for light. 
She moved, and at her feet the volume fell. 

' Blame not thyself too much, ' I said, ' nor blame 
Too much the sons of men and barbarous laws : 240 

These were the rough ways of the world till now. 
Henceforth thou hast a helper, me, that know 

L, •/ C. 



IOO THE PRINCESS [canto vn 

The woman's cause is man's. They rise or sink 

Together, dwarf d or godlike, bond or free. 

For she that out of Lethe scales with man 245 

The shining steps of Nature, shares with man 

His nights, his days, moves with him to one goal, 

Stays all the fair young planet in her hands — 

If she be small, slight-natur'd, miserable, 

How shall men grow ? But work no more alone ! 250 

Our place is much. As far as in us lies 

We two will serve them both in aiding her — 

Will clear away the parasitic forms 

That seem to keep her up but drag her down — 

Will leave her space to burgeon out of all 255 

Within her — let her make herself her own 

To give or keep, to live and learn and be 

All that not harms distinctive womanhood. 

For woman is not undevelop'd man, 

But diverse. Could we make her as the man, 260 

Sweet Love were slain. His dearest bond is this, 

Not like to like, but like in difference. 

Yet in the long years liker must they grow : 

The man be more of woman, she of man ; 

He gain in sweetness and in moral height, 265 

Nor lose the wrestling thews that throw the world : 

She mental breadth, nor fail in childward care, 

Nor lose the childlike in the larger mind ; 

Till at the last she set herself to man, 

Like perfect music unto noble words. 270 

And so these twain, upon the skirts of Time, 

Sit side by side, full-summ'd in all their powers, 

Dispensing harvest, sowing the To-be, 

Self-reverent each and reverencing each, 

Distinct in individualities, 275 



canto vn] A MEDLEY IOI 

But like each other ev'n as those who love. 

Then comes the statelier Eden back to men ; 

Then reign the world's great bridals, chaste and calm; 

Then springs the crowning race of humankind. 

May these things be ! ' 

Sighing she spoke. ' I fear 2S0 

They will not. ' 

' Dear, but let us type them now 
In our own lives, and this proud watchword rest 
Of equal ; seeing either sex alone 
Is half itself, and in true marriage lies 
Nor equal, nor unequal. Each fulfils 285 

Defect in each, and always thought in thought, 
Purpose in purpose, will in will, they grow, 
The single pure and perfect animal, 
The two-cell'd heart beating, with one full stroke, 
Life.' 

And again sighing she spoke. ' A dream 290 

That once was mine ! What woman taught you this ? ' 

' Alone,' I said, 'from earlier than I know, 
Immers'd in rich foreshadowings of the world, 
I lov'd the woman. He, that doth not, lives 
A drowning life, besotted in sweet self, 295 

Or pines in sad experience worse than death, 
Or keeps his wing'd affections clipp'd with crime. 
Yet was there one thro' whom I lov'd her, one 
Not learned, save in gracious household ways, 
Not perfect, nay, but full of tender wants, 300 

No angel, but a dearer being, all dipp'd 
In angel instincts, breathing Paradise, 
Interpreter between the Gods and men, 
Who look'd all native to her place, and yet 



102 THE PRIX CESS [canto vii 

On tiptoe seem'd to touch upon a sphere 305 

Too gross to tread, and all male minds perforce 

Sway'd to her from their orbits as they moved, 

And girdled her with music. Happy he 

With such a mother ! Faith in womankind 

Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high 31° 

Comes easy to him, and tho' he trip and fall 

He shall not blind his soul with clay. ' 

< But I,' 
Said Ida, tremulously, ' so all unlike — 
It seems you love to cheat yourself with words : 
This mother is your model. I have heard 315 

Of your strange doubts. They well might be : I seem 
A mockery to my own self. Never, Prince ; 
You cannot love me.' 

1 Nay, but thee,' I said, 
1 From yearlong poring on thy pictur'd eyes, 
Ere seen I lov'd, and lov'd thee seen, and saw 320 

Thee woman thro' the crust of iron moods 
That mask'd thee from men's reverence up, and forc'd 
Sweet love on pranks of saucy boyhood. Now, 
Giv'n back to life, to life indeed, thro' thee, 
Indeed I love. The new day comes, the light 3 2 5 

Dearer for night, as dearer thou for faults 
Liv'd over. Lift thine eyes : my doubts are dead, 
My haunting sense of hollow shows ; the change, 
This truthful change in thee has kill'd it. Dear, 
Lookup, and let thy nature strike on mine, 35° 

Like yonder morning on the blind half-world. 
Approach and fear not ; breathe upon my brows. 
In that fine air I tremble, all the past 
Melts mist-like into this bright hour, and this 
Is morn to more, and all the rich to-come 335 



conclusion] A MEDLEY I03 

Reels, as the golden autumn woodland reels 

Athwart the smoke of burning weeds. Forgive me, 

I waste my heart in signs : let be. My bride, 

My wife, my life ! O we will walk this world, 

Yoked in all exercise of noble end, 340 

And so thro' those dark gates across the wild 

That no man knows. Indeed I love thee : come, 

Yield thyself up. My hopes and thine are one. 

Accomplish thou my manhood and thyself; 

Lay thy sweet hands in mine and trust to me.' 345 



CONCLUSION. 

So closed our tale, of which I give you all 
The random scheme as wildly as it rose. 
The words are mostly mine ; for when we ceas'd 
There came a minute's pause, and Walter said, 
' I wish she had not yielded ! ' Then to me, 5 

* What if you dress' d it up poetically ! ' 
So pray'd the men, the women. I gave assent : 
Yet how to bind the scatter' d scheme of seven 
Together in one sheaf? What style could suit? 
The men required that I should give throughout 10 

The sort of mock-heroic gigantesque, 
With which we banter'd little Lilia first. 
The women — and perhaps they felt their power, 
For something in the ballads which they sang, 
Or in their silent influence as they sat, 15 

Had ever seem'd to wrestle with burlesque, 
And drove us, last, to quite a solemn close — 
They hated banter, wish'd for something real, 
A gallant fight, a noble princess — why 



104 THE PRINCESS [conclusion 

Not make her true-heroic — true-sublime? 20 

Or all, they said, as earnest as the close ? 

Which yet with such a framework scarce could be. 

Then rose a little feud betwixt the two, 

Betwixt the mockers and the realists ; 

And I, betwixt them both, to please them both, 25 

And yet to give the story as it rose, 

I moved as in a strange diagonal, 

And maybe neither pleas' d myself nor them. 

But Lilia pleas' d me, for she took no part 
In our dispute. The sequel of the tale • 30 

Had touch' d her ; and she sat, she pluck' d the grass, 
She flung it from her, thinking. Last, she fix'd 
A showery glance upon her aunt, and said, 
1 You — tell us what we are ' — who might have told, 
For she was cramm'd with theories out of books, ' 35 

But that there rose a shout. The gates were closed 
At sunset, and the crowd were swarming now, 
To take their leave, about the garden rails. 

So I and some went out to these. We climb' d 
The slope to Vivian-place, and turning saw 4° 

The happy valleys, half in light, and half 
Far-shadowing from the west, a land of peace ; 
Gray halls alone among their massive groves ; 
Trim hamlets ; here and there a rustic tower 
Half-lost in belts of hop and breadths of wheat ; 45 

The shimmering glimpses of a stream ; the seas ; 
A red sail, or a white ; and far beyond, 
Imagin'd more than seen, the skirts of France. 

< Look there, a garden ! ' said my college friend, 
The Tory member's elder son, ' and there ! 5© 



conclusion] A MEDLEY 105 

God bless the narrow sea which keeps her off, 

And keeps our Britain, whole within herself, 

A nation yet, the rulers and the rul'd — 

Some sense of duty, something of a faith, 

Some reverence for the laws ourselves have -made, 55 

Some patient force to change them when we will, 

Some civic manhood firm against the crowd — 

But yonder, whiff ! There comes a sudden heat, 

The gravest citizen seems to lose his head, 

The king is scared, the soldier will not fight, 60 

The little boys begin to shoot and stab, 

A kingdom topples over with a shriek 

Like an old woman, and down rolls the world 

In mock heroics stranger than our own ; 

Revolts, republics, revolutions, most 65 

No graver than a schoolboys' barring out ; 

Too comic for the solemn things they are, 

Too solemn for the comic touches in them, 

Like our wild Princess with as wise a dream 

As some of theirs — God bless the narrow seas ! 70 

1 wish they were a whole Atlantic broad.' 

' Have patience,' I replied, i ourselves are full 
Of social wrong ; and maybe wildest dreams 
Are but the needful preludes of the truth. 
For me, the genial day, the happy crowd, 75 

The sport half-science, fill me with a faith. 
This fine old world of ours is but a child 
Yet in the go-cart. Patience ! Give it time 
To learn its limbs : there is a hand that guides. ' 

In such discourse we gain'd the garden rails, 80 

And there we saw Sir Walter where he stood, 



106 THE PRINCESS [conclusion 

Before a tower of crimson holly-oaks, 

Among six boys, head under head, and look'd 

No little lily-handed baronet he, 

A great broad-shoulder' d genial Englishman, 85 

A lord of fat prize-oxen and of sheep, 

A raiser of huge melons and of pine, 

A patron of some thirty charities, 

A pamphleteer on guano and on grain, 

A quarter-sessions chairman, abler none ; go 

Fair- hair' d and redder than a windy morn ; 

Now shaking hands with him, now him, of those 

That stood the nearest — now address' d to speech — 

Who spoke few words and pithy, such as closed 

Welcome, farewell, and welcome for the year 95 

To follow. A shout rose again, and made 

The long line of the approaching rookery swerve . 

From the elms, and shook the branches of the deer 

From slope to slope thro' distant ferns, and rang 

Beyond the bourn of sunset ; O, a shout 100 

More joyful than the city -roar that hails 

Premier or king ! Why should not these great Sirs 

Give up their parks some dozen times a year 

To let the people breathe ? So thrice they cried, 

I likewise, and in groups theystream'd away. 105 

But we went back to the Abbey, and sat on, 
So much the gathering darkness charm' d. We sat 
But spoke not, rapt in nameless reverie, 
Perchance upon the future man. The walls 
Blacken' d about us, bats wheel' d, and owls whoop' d, no 
And gradually the powers of the night, 
That range above the region of the wind, 
Deepening the courts of twilight broke them up 



conclusion] A MEDLEY I ; 

Tl 



ro' all the silent spaces of the worlds 
Beyond all thought into the Heaven of Heavens. 

Last little Lilia, rising quietly, 
Disrobed the glimmering statue of Sir Ralph 
From those rich silks, and home well-pleas'd we went. 



115 



REFERENCES AND ABBREVIATIONS. 



Cf.. Compare. 

Collins, John Churton : Illustrations of Tennyson; London, 1 891. 

Cook, Albert S. : Tennyson s The Princess; Boston, 1897. 

Dawson, S. E. : A Study of Lord Tennyson's Toem, The Princess; 
second edition ; Montreal, 1884. 

Rolfe, William J.: The Princess; A Medley; Boston, 1890. 

Spedding, Ellis and Heath : Works of Francis Bacon; 15 vols., Bos- 
ton, 1869. 

Tegner, Esaias : Frithiof s Saga; Boston, 1878. 

Tennyson, Alfred Lord : Life and Works; 10 vols., New York, 
1899. * 

Alfred Lord Tennyson. A Memoir by His Son; 2 vols., New York, 
1897. 

Wallace, Percy M. : The Princess; A Medley; New York, 1892. 

Waugh, Arthur: Alfred Lord Tennyson; New York, 1896. 

Woodberry, George Edward : The Princess; New York, 1898. 

Single quotation-marks indicate suggestive paraphrases or 
equivalences of given text meanings. Line and stanza refer- 
ences to other poems of the author are made to the complete 
edition of 1899. Question paragraphs follow divisions of the 
text. 

108 






NOTES AND ANALYTIC QUESTIONS 

PROLOGUE. 

1 Sir Walter Vivian. Mr. Henry Lushington was doubtless here, 
as a type of the English gentleman, more or less in the author's mind. 
" The scene of the opening, I am informed, was Maidstone Park, where 
in 1844 a festival of the Mechanics' Institution was held under the pat- 
ronage of Mr. Lushington. Tennyson was himself present on a bril- 
liantly sunny day, the crowd amounting to between one and two thousand 
people. My informant, who was present on the occasion, tells me that 
the poet's description of the scene exactly tallies with his own memory of 
the day's proceedings. The dedication to Henry Lushington is also in- 
teresting, since it was probably the outcome of the poet's visit to his 
friend at the time when he was reconsidering the poem for its second edi- 
tion. ' ' — Wangh. 

2 Lawns. " Natural pasture-land or unfilled glade, such as contributes 
so much to the charm of an English country gentleman's park." — Wallace. 
Very different from " lawn," or garden lawn (cf. 1. 95, below). 

9 We were seven. Of course Tennyson must have been aware that he 
was echoing one of Wordsworth's titles. There are seven cantos of the 
coming poem to be accounted for, and each representative of the " set " 
is to be responsible for one. 

II Greek. Shaped somewhat like a Greek temple, with high pillars 
in front. Houses are now seldom built in this style, but were common 
in England a hundred years or more ago. Tennyson refers apparently 
{cf. Memoir, L, p. 182) to the home of the Lushingtons, which was 
called Park House. 

13 Pave?nent. Floor of the hall, laid in squares of stone. 

14 Stones of the Abbey -ruin. Elaborate scrolls or figures saved from 
the Abbey-ruin about to be described. 

1 (a) Why did not the author, who was not above accepting a patent 
of nobility for himself, make this Walter a Duke, or at least an Earl ? 
(b) Would that have pleased English readers generally, or yourself, as 
well? Why? (c) What changes are needed to reduce the first line to 
prose ? (d) What, to make prose of the second line ? 

2 (a) Why does the author put me (1. 10) out of its place, and thus 
mar the naturalness of the line? (b) Is of all heavens (1. 12) poetry of 
the sublime or of the beautiful ? (c) How would of all zones, of all climes, 

109 



1 10 THE PRINCESS [prologue 

15 Ammonites. Fossil shells, shaped somewhat like the nautilus, but 
highly ornamented with knobs, spines, and foliated figures. Specimens 
have been found measuring as much as four feet in diameter. 

17 Celts. Prehistoric implements of bronze or stone, shaped like a 
chisel or a hatchet. 

18 Claymore. A large two-edged and two-handed broadsword, once 
the weapon of the Scottish Highlanders. 

19 Sandal. A fragrant wood from the Orient, used as material for 
carved fans and ornaments. 

20 Ivory sphere in sphere. Chinese ivory balls, carved with great deft- 
ness, one within another, in a definite series. 

21 Curs' d Malayan crease. A long dagger with a waved blade, called 
"cursed" because of its use, in running amuck, by crazed Malayans. 

25 Aginconrt. The village near which the French, in 141 5, were 
signally routed by Henry V. 

26 Ascalon. An important seaport of Palestine, during the Crusades. 
Richard Cceur de Lion captured it by his defeat of Saladin in 1192. 

of all lands, severally answer, if substituted for it ? (d) What exactly 
does first bones of Time (1. 15) mean? Is the figure spiritually true ? 
(e) Do you imagine Sir Walter would have approved his guest's judg- 
ment in jumbled (1. 17) ? (/) Do you take it that there was absolutely 
no plan, no principle of arrangement ? (g) Would it apparently have 
suited the person in whose stead the author pretends to speak in this Pro- 
logue, if all the articles in the hall were labelled, and arranged as in an 
actual museum ? Would it have pleased you better? (h) What does the 
fact of a home of such architecture, "set with busts" outside, argue 
with respect to the taste and culture of its founder or its head ? (i) 
Again, what sort of mind has ordered this use (11. 11-22) of the "hall" 
as a conservatory, and a museum of scientific curios, combined? (j) To 
what use, properly, generally, is such a hall, hung (11. 23, 24) with an- 
cestral armor, put ? {k) Would you be likely to find such a hall, put to such 
a use, in Germany or France ? (/) Show why the generic singular in 
claymore and snow-shoe (-1. 18) is more to the "poetic" purpose than clay- 
mores and sno70-shoes would have been, (m) Is toys in Ihva more poetic 
than toys of or wrought from, lava ? (w) Are you pleased, in reference to 
its sense here, with the word orient (1. 20) ? Is there any such thing as 
occidental ivory ? (0) Why did Tennyson choose the corresponding word ? 
(p) What, on reading the syllables slowly, does the line signify in sound ? 
(</) What is implied in "higher on the walls " ? (r) How can a man with 
such ancestors and such traditions be only a baronet or knight ? (s) When 
was the order of Baronets instituted ? 

3 (a) Was Walter's this (1. 25) unaccompanied by further sign as to 
the object meant ? (b) Is there any point in the fact that Walter makes 
no comment, except now, concerning Hugh and Sir Ralph and their ar- 
mor ? Is there any point in the great familiarity of the reference ? 
(c) What does he mean by keep a chronicle (1. 27) ? Did Walter produce 



prologue] A MEDLEY III 

35 Miracle of women. One who, seemingly, could have been con- 
stituted what she was, in comparison with other women, only by miracle. 

36 Strait-besieg\i, Rigorously invested by an army. 
50 Rapt. Enraptured, transported. 

55 Pasture. Cf. ''broad lawns," 1. 2 above. 

56 Happy faces and with holiday. ' Faces happy with holiday, ' an 
hendiadys. 

59 Facts. More technically, l with experiments.' 

60 On the slope. From further up the hillside. 

63 Steep-up. Straight-up ; an expression borrowed perhaps from 
Shakespeare. 

64 Wisp. Will-o'-the-wisp. 

74 Fire-balloon. A balloon filled with hot air, furnished by a flaming 
ball attached beneath. 

it apparently from some place distant or difficult of access ? (d) What 
propriety in saying dived (1. 29) ? (e) Was it civil for one of the guests 
to become thus oblivious of the rest, and of the attentions his host is 
showing? (/) Is it possible to dive into a hoard? Is not this mixed 
metaphor? (g) Is died (1. 31) to be understood as the result of -laying 
about them at their wills ' ? (h) What is the full meaning of the line ? 
(i) What significant, vital element in the figure mix'd (1. 32)? (j) What 
did the lady do that calls specifically and interpretatively for this idea ? 

4 (a) How can we tell when there is force in a man's talk or speech- 
making ? Is there always force in the mind when there is in diction ? 
What makes the force in the mind? (b) Is there organic force in 
11. 35-48 of the present paragraph ? (c) If this lady were some veri- 
table Joan of Arc, who had led a sortie and a charge, would the whole 
read differently ? (d) How is the extraordinary strength of character 
in this heroine imaginatively measured to us, — by inspiring resistance to 
the siege, by 'arming her own fair head,' or by 'sallying thro' the gate.' 
or at the head of her troops ' falling on her enemies like a thunderbolt, ' 
trampling them under foot and crushing them in Napoleonic fashion ? 
(e) Is there anything in what she did unwomanly and extreme? (/) If 
there were something unsexed, fatally truculent and masculine to be in- 
augurated in the after-poem, would or would not this episode tend to 
forestall repellant impressions ? (g) What words are stressed in 11. 38, 
39 ? Do all of these usually receive such stress ? (h) What is suggested 
to vou by brake (1. 42), in both form and idea, as well as in the fact that 
th* line begins with stress ? (i) What words have emphasis in the last 
line of the paragraph ? 

5 (a) Is sang (1. 49) phrasing, or interpretative (cf p. Hi) here? 
(b) How does it chance that the college boys and Li Ha and her girl 
friends are not, on this picnicking morning, already together? Is it 
or is it not probably the boys' fault ? (c) Is there any point in the fact 
that the strong-minded Aunt Elizabeth is thought of and mentioned (cf. 
II. 51. 52, and 96, 97), rather than the young ladies, first? Is it more 



I 1 2 THE PRINCESS [prologue 

76 Fairy parachute. Parachute adapted, in size, for the descent of 
fairies. 

86 Soldier-laddie. The tune of the Scotch song, beginning 

" My soger laddie is over the sea, 
And he will bring gold and siller to me."' 

87 Ambrosial. Fragrant as the ambrosia of the Greek divinities. 

89 Smacking of the time. Having the flavor of the age, industrial, 
practical. 

93 Time and frost. From frost operating through long time; hendia- 
dys again. 

Gave. Afforded a view of; a Gallicism. 

95 The sward -was trim. Shaded by the walls, the grass was tender 
and even, like the kept lawn of a city mansion. Cf 1. 2, and note. 

98 Seats. 'Halls,' or country residences, like this of Sir Walter 
Vivian, — or of the Lushingtons, just described. 

usual for collegians like these, young, of good families, accustomed to 
gay society, to have their minds upon the duenna, only, taking the bevy 
of young ladies for granted, or the reverse ? (d ) Is it or is it not con- 
ceivable that some strong-mindedness on Lilia's part may have hindered 
the haste of these young men ? (e) Was the chronicle probably a small 
book ? (/) What does the fact that the speaker takes along this book, 
with his finger in it. imaginatively measure — -is it mood, or character, or 
both ? (g) Why should the sight, even to one who comes from viewing 
armor, and listening to feudal legends, seem strange? (//) Is 1. 55 truly 
interpretative, or phrasing ? (i) Why (1. 58) "leaders " ? (/) What sort 
of an interpretative clause begins (1. 66) with "Echo" ? (h) Why, on 
the way to the Abbey, should the author detain us so long over an unpoetic, 
even a common, scene ? (/) What, as one mentally reviews the para- 
graph, furnishes the bulk of the impressions ? (;;/) In feudal times what 
was the condition of the class represented by this "multitude"? 
(n) Who are the servants here ? (o) What is the effect of introducing 
science thus, after the feudalistic and legendary paragraphs preceding, 
and before the abbey scene immediately to follow, — is it to make the 
medisevalism seem by contrast more romantic ? (/) How would the 
effect of the whole have been different if all the experiments had been 
left out ? (q) Which seems more native to the mind, science or romance ? 
(r) Which will furnish the ballast for our aerial voyage in this poem? 

6 (a) Do we ever "gaze" at repulsive things and scenes? (b) With 
what do the young men satiate themselves ? (<r) From what century 
must an abbey of finest Gothic date ? (d) Why has the author so shaped 
the ruins as now to give the park, the crowd, the house, and indeed 
turned us square about so as to view them ? (<?) Why does the author 
(1. 98) make Ralph himself as of the company, yet immediately explain 
that there was only his statue? (/) Does the author mean (1. 101) to 
imply that if Lilia had not been so young and undeveloped, she would 
not have wound the effigy ? (g) What is implied in the fact Aunt Eliza 



prologue] A MEDLEY 1 1 3 

1 08 This fair day for text. The altruism of the leaders, and the in- 
terest of the crowd, make the occasion "fair "to all serious-minded folk. 
It augurs great social advancement for the common people, and this the 
aunt, in spite of the youthfulness of her audience, insists on holding forth 
about immediately. 

HO Unworthier. As less interested in sociological matters, but bent on 
fun. 

in, 112 " Spikes and bars are respectively on the walls of the College 
garden and in the windows of the students' rooms." — Wallace. 

113 Breath' d. Got out of breath by leading in a fruitless chase. 

Proctor 's dogs. u The ' Proctor ' is the University official charged with 
the superintendence of discipline; when on his rounds of inspection he is 
attended by servants, familiarly known as 'bull-dogs,' who at his orders 
pursue and arrest any undergraduate who will not obey his summons." — 
Wallace. 

115 Honeying. Making himself as agreeable to his titled pupil as 
honey is to the taste of everybody; a figure indicative of degree. 

116 Master. u The title most commonly borne by the head of a Cam- 
bridge College." — Wallace. 

1 1 6, 117 'At heart a rogue, but covering his real character by 
solemnly preaching ethic and religious theories.' 
119 Lady-clad. Made a lady by clothing. 



beth's party is already seated or reclining, for lunch, about the time of 
day ? (Ji) Do you imagine that the young men were or were not expected 
earlier ? (?) Why probably did not the maiden aunt wait for them ? 
(_/') Why is it significant that Aunt Elizabeth begins to preach immedi- 
ately, and of what is it significant ? (k) Why should not the young men 
hesitate to begin stories, right after this, of probably not overrefined 
college pranks ? (/) How many out of the seven have been in scrapes ? 
(How many are there who go larking later, in the poem proper?) 
(m) How many subjects or topics of interest are touched upon in this 
paragraph ? («) Is the paragraph wanting in unity ? 

7 (a) Does the author mean (1. 118) to imply that he took or did not 
take part in the story-telling ? (b) What character discerned herein ? 
(c) Is this inadvertent, or did the author perhaps intend characterization 
here? (d) Can you see any reason why the author is at such pains to 
give us all the steps leading to his reading of the tale (11. 35-48) before- 
hand? (e) Do you imagine that the poet's praising (1. 124) was much 
echoed by the other collegians or anybody ? Why ? (f) What does 
the author mean by nobleness ? (g) Why could not the young men make 
shift to start a conversation with less shop in it — are the "lady friends " 
(1. 97) bashful perhaps ? Or what spell is on the company ? (//.) Is it 
explainable that Lilia (11. 125, 126) does not attempt to play the hostess 
to anybody, but keeps by her brother ? (?) Is it explainable that, when 
Lilia speaks, the unit of presentation lengthens ? 



114 THE PRINCESS [prologue 

128 Convention. 'Prescriptive, conventional restraints.' 

129 But bringing up. 'Nothing but habituation to inactive and 
dependent modes of living.' Some of the earlier advocates of woman's 
rights were inclined to ignore the physical limitations of her sex, and 
even insist that man might be without difficulty overmatched in any field. 
Evidently Lilia has been in contact with teaching of this kind. 

134 The author thus forestalls in some measure the unplausibleness of 
the story soon to follow. 

138 Play'd the patron. Patted her hair in a teasing, challenging, 
patronizing mood. Walter knows well enough what sort of answer will 
be forthcoming, and tries to aggravate it. 

141 Dowagers. Rich widows of rank. 

Deans. Officers who enforce discipline in an English University. 

144 Pick as Emperor-moths. That is, in color; prefigurative of the 
daffodil and lilac gowns and hoods, of Blanche and Psyche, in the poem 
proper. 

149 Silken-sandal 'd. Said in contrast with the strong-minded, blue- 
stocking sentiments of this petted patrician daughter, who knows as yet 
so little of the world. 

150 I would make it deatk. Here put into the mouth of Lilia to fore- 
stall somewhat the truculence (II. 178) of Ida's statute. 

153 Set with little wilful thorns. Whose nature was not all charms, 
being set off by little thorns of wilfulness; like the present indulgence in 
what she knows is unfair and extreme. 

155 That is, as thickly and indiscriminately as hail comes down; a 
figure of degree. 



8 (a) What exactly is the animus (11. 127, 128) of Lilia's answer? 

(b) How does she think (1. 132) to shame her brother and his friends? 

(c) How much of a Cambridge education, at the time this poem was 
written, was accessible to English girls ? (d) How was the hair (1. 138) 
of young women, at the time this poem was written, generally arranged ? 

9 (a) In what spirit is that which (1. 139) ''one said smiling" 
uttered? (b) What is the force and equivalence here (1. 143) of should! 
(c) What do you say of the compliment (11. 145-148) now paid to Lilia ? Is 
it graceful ? (d) What of the figure in brood, and nest, and boys prey- 
ing on the latter ? Is it exalting ? 

10 {a) What is really Lilia's feeling ? (b) What "way " (1. 150) would 
she consider satisfactory and ideal ? 

11 (a) What character (1. 152) is discerned between the petulance and 
the laugh ? (b) What really are the two moods thus in contention ? (c) 
Does the banter gain or lose, in the lines following, from being uttered 
by a brother ? (d) Could or could not Tennyson have made it come 
from some other person in the company ? Why ? (e) What artistic or 
other need of having it said at all ? (/) What contrast between killing 
men and tapping with tiny silken- sandal'd foot? 



prologue] A MEDLEY 115 

156 Ogress. Applied of course in jocular reference to what she has 
said in 11. 150, 151. 

161 Lost their weeks. "At an English University residence for a 
certain number of terms is necessary to render a student eligible for his 
degree, and residence for a certain proportion of each term (reckoned by 
attendance at dinner) is necessary to enable him to ' count' that term." — 
Wallace. 

176 Stay ' d up. That is, at the University (Cambridge), instead of 
going home for the Holidays. 
To read. ' To study. ' 

179, 180 They did not find it so easy to carry out their resolution, 
when the days they had usually spent so delightfully at home came on. 
Their mathematics tutor was paid for his services, but they did not give 
him anything to do. 

181 Cloisters. "Originally, 'enclosures'; here, as generally, the 
covered arcades or broad corridors that run around the interior of a 
College quadrangle." — Wallace. 

182 Long walks. "Avenues of trees such as that at Magdalen, 
known as 'Addison's Walk.' " — Woodberry. 

183, 184 Pledge in wassail. Somewhat tautologic for ' drink healths 
abundantly or deeply.' 

188 Two games, purely and quietly intellectual; in contrast with the 
noisy amusements spoken of (1. 192) below. 

190 That. Namely, the last of the diversions Walter mentions. 
Thus the author brings around his Prologue — written doubtless after the 
poem proper — to account for and excuse the medley character of the 
whole. 

192 Magic music. "Some hidden article is sought for by one of 
the company, who is partly guided in his efforts by the music of some 
instrument which is played fast and loud as he approaches the place of 
concealment, and more slowly and softly as he wanders from it." — 
Wallace. 



12 (a) Why should Lilia (11. 166-167) resort to irony ? (b) What does 
she think is the real feeling of the college men towards their girl friends 
at home ? (c) Why ? (d) How far is her idea about it wrong ? 

13 (a) What do you say of the comparison (11. 169-172) now used ? Is 
it or is it not too literary ? Does it savor too much of phrasing ? (b) Is 
Tennyson or Walter to be held responsible for 1. 178 ? (c) How could it 
be improved ? (d) See if you can cast the meaning acceptably in the 
other interpretative form, (e) Of course the games now mentioned (11. 
186-190) are rather effeminate for boys. What does the fact that they 
resort to these measure to us ? (/) Why has the author at such length 
evolved the reference to these games ? 

14 (a) What memories and what mood have been induced (11. 190-192) 
by what Walter has told? (b) What insinuation (11. 193, 194) does Lilia 



Il6 THE PRINCESS [prologue 

196 He began. Thus Tennyson again [cf. 11. 28, 120) alludes to him- 
self essentially in propria persona. 

1 99 Chimeras. A rather sophomoric designation for ' extravagan- 
zas,' 'wildly fantastic and absurd inventions.' 

Crotchets. ' Whimsical conceptions, creations.' 
Solecisms. "Denotes originally an impropriety in language, then, 
more loosely, any incongruity or inconsistency — here a ridiculous story, 
such as might naturally pass from mouth to mouth during the festivities 
of Christmas time." — Wallace. 

208. 209 The Aunt takes the idea too seriously; Walter affects to 
assume the same seriousness, but burlesques it. 

211 Like a ghostly woodpecker. " The reference is here to the pecu- 
liar shrill and reverberating cry with which the bird calls to its mate, 
sounding sometimes like laughter, though plaintive and dolorous in 
tone." — Wallace. The figure has been criticized, perhaps not unjustly; 
though it is clearly not interpretative in kind, but, of the rapidity and 
intensity of the laughter-syllables, in degree. 

212-214 The maiden Aunt does not relish having her suggestions 
turned to ridicule, but is too well-bred, or too tactful, to notice the 
virtual discourtesy. So she offers to modify her over-serious and over- 
literary idea to suit the lighter mood of the '* unworthier " young folk. 
And thus Tennyson manages to shift somewhat of the responsibility for 
the seven-head chimera, now to be told, to the temper of the company 
and the hour. 



intend ? (c) Is the feeling out of which this grows probably native to 
her, or inspired by others ? 

15 (a) How far do you imagine Tennyson intended references to him- 
self, as in 1. 196, in propria persona ? (b) Would you or would you not have 
liked the poem better had the author merged himself in another of the 
company who was not the leader, and not a poet? (c) What character- 
ization do you perforce discern herein? id) What artistic purpose in 
11. 198-201 ? 

16 (a) What of character is betrayed (11. 201, 202) in Lilia's next utter- 
ance ? (b) Does she mean to imply, is she aware of implying, that the 
antecedent conversation has been tiresome ? (c) Can you see any reason 
why the maiden Aunt should be now, and so pointedly, heard from ? 
(d) What characterization (11. 203-208) in what she says ? (<?) How far 
does she seem to you the typical, how far an untypical, English lady ? 

17 (a) What artistic purpose (11. 208, 209) in making Walter burlesque 
the Aunt's seriousness of plan? (b) Is Lilia's recognition of the ab- 
surdity in both of any use? (c) What difference in the two laughs? 
(d) Is the professed reconcilement of the Aunt to any extravaganza fea- 
tures likely, or intended, to have conciliating effect upon the reader? 

18 (a) Who is made responsible for the plan of the poem about to 
follow ? (b) Who is generally in such a case blamed, if a poem does not 



canto i] A MEDLEY W] 

219 Epic. That is, like the "lady" of 11. 32-34, above. 
Homicidal. ' yJ/tf«-slaughterer.' 

221 Each be hero. Each to assume the role of the hero, and so fill a 
canto in the first person. 

222 Like shadows in a dream; "which though one in continuity, is 
made up of incongruous parts, and thus not conformable to ordinary 
canons of composition." — Wallace. 

224 To suit with time and place. Nineteenth-century in ideas and 
culture; mediaeval principally in action. 

CANTO I. 

2 0/ temper amorous. 'Of a temperament and nature inclining me 
to fall in love.' Amorous, like most other adjectives in English, may 
have either an active meaning, ' causing to be in love,' or a passive one, 
' caused to be in love.' The word has of course its active meaning here. 
As the first of May. ' As the beginning of May is ' ; a construction, it 
must be owned, unusually strained and harsh. The meaning is, appar- 
ently, ' My affectionate disposition prompted me as fully to love-making 
as the influences of spring are supposed in any case to do ' {cf. Locksley 
Hall, 11. 17-20). This line serves in part to assist the characterization, 
and to forestall prejudice against the Prince's amorous behavior, soon to 
be told, towards one he has not seen. 

please? (c) Should you expect, from the references here (11. 217-220) 
to Lilia, to find her likeness, in some travestied shape, in the after 
work? 

19 (a) Will the characterization of the Prince, and indeed of the Prin- 
cess, be probably throughout unvarying and consistent, wrought by so 
many hands ? (b) Does the author wish us to expect exact, artistic 
treatment of this sort? Show where he tells us. (c) What is the pur- 
pose in 11. 223-231, and how has the author managed to conceal it? (d) 
Is the Winter's Tale of like character with the work proposed ? (<?) How 
does the author further deprecate and forestall criticism here ? (/) 
Does the suggestion of singing between the different cantos of the coming 
poem seem or not seem a sufficient excuse for the "songs " ? (g) Why 
did they not appear in the first edition? (h) Why were they later 
added ? 

20 (a) Is the sighing of the wind (I. 238) pitched in the bass or the 
tenor register ? (/>) In what does the likeness between the notes of the 
linnet and woman's singing consist,— is it quality or pitch ? 

I. 

I (a) What characterization is effected by presenting this youth to us 
in ringlets, worn in "lengths" like a girl's, upon the shoulders? (b) Is 
the characterization one of kind, or of degree ? (c) What is implied 
concerning the character of the mother, who permits or ordains such 
fashions for her son ? 



Il8 THE PRINCESS [cantO i 

J Cast no shadow. The evidence of extreme wizardry, and intended 
by the author to serve to imagination as the measure of it. A man 
might, however, according to mediaeval notions, part with his shadow 
without selling his soul, — like Peter Schlemihl, in Chamisso's story of 
that title. 

8-10 Know the shadow from the substance. The characteristic ' high- 
serious ' manner in which prophecy is cast. Cf -'Bel boweth down, 
Nebo stoopeth." "Woe to the land shadowing with wings, which is 
beyond the rivers of Ethiopia, that sendeth ambassadors by the sea, even 
in vessels of bulrushes upon the waters, saying, Go, ye swift messengers, 
to a nation scattered and peeled, to a people terrible from their begin- 
ning hitherto." Cf. p. xlviii. 

12 Waking dreams. 'Dreams in waking moments.' Of course the 
strange affliction was not dreaming, in daylight, with the eyes wide 
open, nor anything so bad as that. The phrase is said to give us an 
approximate idea of the unpracticalness of the visions, as in relation to 
the stern world of facts. The author is evidently not anxious to be 
specific. He might as well have characterized the "affection" as the 
Highlander's "second sight"; only of course that would not have re- 
duced the Prince's responsibility, as is apparently intended, and might 
have idealized what the need is to degrade. As for the country had in 
mind, it seems as likely to have been Scotland as North Germany or 
Scandinavia. The reference to it in 1. 3 as under the Northern star is 
no doubt general, like sub septentrionibus in Latin. 

14 Weird seizures. ' Fits of possession by occult, unearthly powers.' 

18 The shadow of a dream. Note how the author has advanced here 
from the enigmatical terms of the prophecy, through " strange affection " 
and "weird seizures" to. this climax and outcome of the diagnosis, yet 
without uncovering the real character of the distemper. That it is any- 
thing very unpleasurable or bad will not be imagined. Professor Wood- 
berry happily suggests (pp. 133, 134) that the author invests the Prince 
here with certain habitudes, or rather gifts, of his own mind. " The 
thought itself, the shadow-idea, is fundamental in Tennyson; it is per- 
sistent in all his work, it falls in with his own nature, and it has a basis 
in his own personality. He relates his experience [11. 229-239] in The 
Ancient Sage." 

1 9 Court -Galen. Chief physician of the kingdom, resident at court 
for service in the royal family. Galen (a.d. 130-200), a famous physi- 

2 (a) Is lived (I.5) a true figure, or mere phrasing? Show why? (b) 
In what spirit, to what purpose, was the sorcerer's prophecy declared ? 
(c) Why does the author take the trouble to tell us that the sorcerer 
foretold thus at dying? (d) Exactly what does this prophecy (11. 8-ic) 
embody? (e) Why should it be the mother (1. 11) that is referred to and 
not the father? (/) What is the effect (1. 12) of truly? (g) Does the 
Prince seem to regard his gift of vision (1, 14) reverently, or otherwise ? 
Has his mother perhaps inspired in him this feeling, or does it come 



canto i] A MEDLEY 119 

cian of Pergamos, summoned repeatedly to attend the emperors, was the 
chief authority in medicine till Paracelsus. The dominion exercised by 
Galen in the complete sphere is made to interpret in the degree way the 
eminence of this court physician over his fellows in his smaller world. 
The gilt-head cane helped make up the presence, in old days, of such a 
medical dignitary. 

23 Half -canonized. • Almost adjudged a saint by those who merely 
saw her face.' 

25 A king a king. Cf. III. 136, and note. 

27 Pedant 's wand. ' Schoolmaster's rod or ferule.' 

33 Proxy -wedded. ' Wedded through the person of a proxy.' 

Bootless calf. The marriage of Maximilian of Austria with Anne of 
Brittany, solemnized after this fashion in 1489, is described by Bacon in 
the History of King Henry VII.: "The King having thus upheld the 
reputation of Maximilian, advised him now to press on his marriage 
with Brittaine to a conclusion; which Maximilian accordingly did; and 
so far forth prevailed both with the young lady and with the prin- 
cipal persons about her, as the marriage was consummate by proxy with 
a ceremony at that time in these parts new. For she was not only pub- 
licly contracted, but stated as a bride, and solemnly bedded, and after 
she was laid, there came in Maximilian's ambassador with letters of 
procuration, and in the presence of sundry noble personages, men and 
women, put his leg (stript naked to the knee) between the espousal 
sheets, to the end that that ceremony might be thought to amount to a 
consummation and actual knowledge." — Spedding's Edition, vol. XL, 
pp. 153, 154. Spedding, in a note to the above, adds the information 

from some other source ? {Ji) Does the pawing of the beard (1. 20) indi- 
cate a baffling or a practicable case ? (/) Do you understand that the 
Prince suffered the suspension of consciousness and muscular rigidity, 
during the "weird seizures," that catalepsy implies? (J) Develop, in 
kind and degree, the characterization implied in 11. 25, 26, and 27-30 
respectively. 

3 (a) At what age approximately, as you infer (1. 31), was the Prince 
betrothed ? (/>) Do you understand that there was a marriage (11. 32, 33) 
at some time after the betrothal, or that only a betrothal is alluded to in 
the double reference? (r) How far will such a marriage be binding 
upon the Princess? (d) Does the Prince appear to assume (11. 40-42) 
that he has other than a wooer's rights ? (e) How will any presumption 
on his part, if the Princess has grown into high-spirited young woman- 
hood, be likely to please her ? (_/") Some critics think the proxy- wed- 
ding barbarous and preposterous, and insist that it is useless and mars 
the poem. Can you find the author's reason for using it? (g) Is it not 
false to affirm that murmurs reach the court of the Prince's kingdom ? 
(A) If the home of the Prince is in the North, and of the Princess in the 
South, what is the propriety (1. 32) in neighboring! (i) Why does the 
author take the trouble (1. 38) of saying dark tress ? 



120 THE PRINCESS [canto 1 

that "Anne did not complete her fourteenth year till the 26th of Janu- 
ary, 1490." 

34 Still. 'Continually.' 

36 Puissance. An old word, suggesting chivalrous strength of a 
physical sort, and so well suited to the mediaeval turn that the poem takes 
in Canto V. 

42 Gifts. That is, for the Princess. 

To fetch her. It is plainly assumed that the chief ceremony, 
which must of course take place at the home court, is already despatched. 
Otherwise, this King and his son would have gone in person to the 
bride's capital. 

43 Labor of the loom. Evidently a feminine present, a robe or man- 
tle; though scarcely intended for the Prince's mother, who (except in V. 
398) is not treated or spoken of as living. 

46 Compact. That is, between the fathers, or the kingdoms. 

48 Maiden fancies. Ideas and tastes that presuppose or necessitate 
the unmarried condition. Cf Shakespeare's maiden meditation (M. N. D. 
II. i. 164). 

48, 49 Alone among her women. Refused to allow about her the usual 
court-contingent of gallants and pages. 

50 Presence room. Royal audience hall. 

54 Other heart. Heart, as a name of the emotional forces, is properly 
active in meaning. The word is sometimes used passively, as in "dear 
heart," of the object of one's affections. Heart in the present case is 
similarly passive. 

56 Twinnd. The figure is here evidently not one of kind, since ear 
and eye cannot be included spiritually in the same genus. The word is 
used to measure the degree of sympathy between the Prince and his 
friend : an action or experience of the one was sure to be shared imme- 
diately by the other. 



4 (a) If the Prince is already married to the Princess, why does the 
author imply that he is yet to wed? (b) Who seems to have moved 
first in the matter, the Prince, or the Prince's father? (c) Does the 
King, who takes the gifts, apparently turn them over to his daughter ? 
Is there any characterization here ? (d) What word in 1. 46 has 
principal stress ? (e) Does this King mean or not mean (1. 47) that the 
will of some certain lady is recognized by him beyond the honor of the 
realm? (/) Will he or will he not apparently speak to her about the 
matter? (g) What do you infer is the reason of what is told us in the 
next two lines ? 

5 (a) What "morning" (1. 50) is meant? (b) Why two iviths in the 
next line ? (c) W T hat difference do you discern between starts and bursts 
as applied to character? (d) Do you understand that moved together 
means that they shared the same motives, or merely that one never 
went anywhere without the other? 



canto i] A MEDLEY 121 

58 Troubled. Muscularly tense and ridged by the energy of decision; 
the face being in visual moments undrawn and smooth. Cf. "troubled 
pool," "troubled surface of a lake," etc. Note the force of character in- 
dicated in these dark wrinkles, as in contrast with the flabby effect of 
Gama's smile (11. 114, 115), below. 

59 Inflamed. Flushed, reddened. 

60 Snoiv'd. Again we have a figure not spiritually true in kind, but 
used, with some exaggeration, of degree. The shreds of paper did not 
float, but like snow flakes fell straight, — so fiercely did he dash them 
down. 

61 Thro' warp and woof. That is, he tore the robe, by a single 
movement, if we are to believe it, diagonally, through both warp and 
woof. This, the fabric being new, and curiously woven, was no easy 
feat, and measures to imagination yet more potently the degree of rage. 

64, 65 Then followed a considerable delay, no one addressing him, 
while he pondered variously how to be revenged. 

Cooked his spleen. Nursed his rage; spared the energy of fur- 
ther outbursts, for action. " It has its origin in the sense of carefully 
watching and keeping warm which is implied in that of cooking. 
' Spleen ' has obtained the secondary meaning of anger from the belief 
of the ancients that the organ so called was the seat of that passion. — 
Wallace. 

66 Captains. "Commanders, generals; as in the Bible." — Cook. 

72 Than fame. Supply ' reports her. ' 

78 Of three castles. Of three fiefs or counties. 

84 In a strait. In case of straits or difficulty. 

85 I grate on rusty hinges. ' When I stir here I am but reminded 
of how long it is since I moved before. ' 

87 Maiden fancies. Remembered and echoed, from 1. 48, in deep- 
est irony. 

90 Wild zvoods. This capital being in the North, was closely sur- 
rounded by fir and birchen forests. 

93 Dewy-tasseW d trees. Wallace quotes the explanation of Hallam 



6 (a) What was it that the king wrote (1. 60) as distinct from what the 
ambassadors (1. 57) "spake "? (b) Is there anything significant or ex- 
plainable in the author's use of the word "ambassadors" here? (c) 
Does the king seem to have torn the robe more willingly or less will- 
ingly because it was female gear ? (d) Why is it not some gift proper 
for the prince ? (e) What does he mean exactly by "bring her in a 
whirl- wind " ? 

7 (a) Why (1. 67) has the Prince waited so long before speaking? 
(b) Why has not the father consulted the son before determining his 
course ? (c) Where is the emphasis in let me go ? (d) What means 
(1. 74) the foreign court ? (e) Why does Cyril (1. 80) say too ? (/) Is 
the king (1. 85) inclined to precipitancy {cf 1. 62) of resolution ? 



122 THE PRINCESS [canto I 

Tennyson, — "hung with catkins as in the hazel-wood. It was spring- 
time/' Cf. In Memoriam, LXXXVI. 6. 

100, 10 1 The first clause here has probably been thought florid and 
effeminate by many readers. Perhaps Tennyson would have written it 
anywhere, but it is right to remember that he is speaking now in the 
person of a love-sick and not over-manly swain. 

107 Threaded spiders. Spiders swung upon the threads of their 
webs. The young men let themselves down by ropes from the embra- 
sures. 

109 Livelier land. They have of course come {cf. 1. 35) southward, 
where the vegetation is more forward and ample, and the sun stronger. 
Tilth. Land under systematic cultivation. 

Grange. "An outlying farm estate, with special reference to its 
cluster of buildings." — Woodberry. 

HO Bosks of wilderness. Wild shrubs growing thickly. Two weeks 
have passed since the willows at home (1. 93) were in tassel. The wild 
flowers are just blossoming in this more southern land. 

Ill Mother-city. ' Metropolis ' of that kingdom. 

115 Drove his cheek in lines. Cf. 1. 58 above, aid note. 

116 Without a star. Without the usual military decorations marking 
valiant service, during his crownprinceship period in the field. 

118 Ambassadors, according to Northern etiquette, accepted hospital- 
ity for three days ; on the fourth day they made known their message. 
Cf. Erithiof's Saga, the editor's translation, V. 71-73. 

120 Not as vain of the seal ring, though he is doubtless well pleased 
with it and it is much in his thoughts; the gesture is indicative rather, 
while warmly courteous, of mental inertia and vacuity. 

121 Ourselves. "Elsewhere in this poem the form used of himself 
by a king is 'ourself,' as generally in Shakespeare." — Wallace. This 
editor might have added that the Princess [cf. III. 211) uses the singular 
form. It is at least unfortunate that the author chooses the plural here. 



8 (a) Why are the woods (1. 90) called wild} Is this Tennyson's or 
the Prince's word ? [b) Do you discern any characterization in 11. 91-93 ? 
If so, develop it. Is it of kind or of degree ? (c) How might it be fairly 
insisted that the Princess (1. 94) has broken troth ? (d) How can lips 
(1. 95) look proud? (e) What can shrieks (11. 97, 98) of the wild woods 
mean ? (f ) How indeed can we account for what the Prince affirms 
here in the last four lines ? 

9 (a) How should it seem that the king (1. 105) might shout from some 
bay-window in the town} (b) We note Tennyson makes this city to 
have had walls: is it apparent why? (c) What is the visualizing effect 
of (1. ill) mother-city thick zvith towers ? (d) Is not the Prince's capital 
such? 

10 (a) What characterization (1. 113) in cracked and small his voice? 
(b) Is what the king says (11. 121, 122) about having once been in love 



canto i] A MEDLEY 12$ 

122 Compact. King Gama is cautious again (cf. 1. 46) in touching 
upon the Princess's responsibility. 

126 But. The King's indolent ellipsis here, in his subjective help- 
lessness, is amusing. ' But all power and influence on my part, in your 
behalf, have been forestalled.' 

128 Fed her theories. 'Gave her ideas that she assimilated as it 
had been food. ' 

Out of place. They subordinated even the public fetes to the 
propagandism of ' woman's rights.' 

129 Husbandry . The term seems scarcely of Gama's choosing, hence 
is likely quoted. Tennyson is not always chivalrously fair to the theo- 
rists he is opposing. Would these widows have meddled with the word ? 

*34 Knowledge. Evidently the passive meaning of 'intellectual 
attainments,' 'erudition'; not 'sapience,' ' wisdom,' which woman in 
large measure compasses by intuition. 

136 Lose the child. Become unconsciously, and as it were natively, 
self-reliant; be their own masters. Cf. Prol. 133, This supercilious 
feeling towards "the child," reaffirmed by the Princess (III. 234-237) 
later on, is vital in the author's treatment of the theme. To satirize this, 
he makes the babe of Psyche the eventual heroine of the poem. 

137 Awful odes. The first fruits of the attempt to outrival masculine 
accomplishments were sought in literature. The court judgments of 
their merit (11. 143, 144) of course were flattering. 

147 Hard by your father 's frontier. The author places this summer- 
palace naturally enough in the northmost part of the realm, but chiefly 
(cf IV. 384) to minimize the military action. 

149 All wild to found. A shade less slangy perhaps than the cur- 
rent ' crazy to do so and so, ' but scarcely to be commended in a poem 
of such pretensions as this one. But perhaps the responsibility (cf. 11. 
100, 10 1, and note) should rest with Gama. 

150 On the spur. A degree figure; as of a fleeing horseman keeping 
his weight so to speak upon his spurs. 

himself to be taken as burlesque or seriously ? (c) Why did the author 
make Lady Psyche and Lady Blanche to have been widows, and not 
maiden aunts ? (d) What (1. 129) does equal husbandry really mean ? 
(e) Does equal (1. 130) refer to physical as well as mental strength ? 
(/) Does what is said in 11. 131, 132 indicate or not indicate that there 
were also male champions of woman's rights ? (g) Is or is not the 
author descending to burlesque when he says (1. 142) the women sang 
these odes ? What women sang them ? When, and where ? (h) Is 
anything implied as to the success of the agitation (1. 145) in at last} 
(i) What does the king mean (1. 148) by easy man ? (j) W'hat charac- 
terization (1. 155) in Pardon me saying it} (k) Does or does not the 
king distinguish between his personal and his official obligations ? 
(/) Has the Princess inherited, apparently, her father's or her mother's 
qualities ? 



124 THE PRINCESS [canto i 

161 Slur. Pass over lightly. The Prince is of course preposterously 
charitable to use the word. 

163, 164 All frets but chafing me. ••All impediments serving only 
to aggravate my impatience. The metaphor is from ignition by friction 
— these delays irritated the Prince's heart into a burning excitement." — 
Wallace. 

On fire. In the factitive construction; l so as to be on fire.' 

170 The liberties. "An English legal term for adjacent privileged 
territory, here used of the outskirts of the estate within which the exclu- 
sive rights granted to the Princess were exercised." — Woodberry. 

174 Sibilation. A Tennysonian name of the sound produced by 
drawing in the breath, slowly, in a low whistle. 

179 Was he bound to speak. That is, in protest, or information. The 
hostel-keeper virtually regards himself (cf.\. 186, "liege-lady") as a 
subject of the Princess. 

187 Post. Provide relays of horses for those traveling " post." 

188 Boys. Post boys; postilions. 

194 High tide of feast. At the height of the festival or entertainment. 

195 Masque or pageant, " The masques were especially court sports, 
and the pageants had a more popular character. Milton's Comus is an 
example of a masque, and pageants are described in Scott's A'enilworth." 
• — Woodberry. 

201 To guerdon. * To furnish the inducement for'; literally 'rec- 
ompense. ' 

11 (a) Does the king seem (11. 161-163) to be intentionally hoodwink- 
ing the young men? (b) Do you take it that (1. 169) the gleaming river 
is a great commercial highway ? (<:) What or where does it seem this 
kingdom is? (d) Does mine host (1. 171) know who the leader of this 
trio is ? (e) What do you say of the dignity of a king's son seeking his 
people's queen in such a way? 

12 {a) What is evidently (1. 174, 175) the hostel-keeper's feeling? 
(b) Has the wine abated it ? (c) How should a man who has never been 
inside or near the college speak of or know of rules ? (d) What does he 
think (1. 182) to do? (e) How did the Princess make such an impression 
(1. 184) upon the man? Was she disdainful? (/) Why does the author 
now make the host to jest thus coarsely here ? 

13 (a) Must it have been or not have been easy to impersonate 
Goddesses or Nymphs successfully ? Could all young men do this ? 
(b) Why the singular in these nouns used? (c) Why did the author 
(1. 3) make the Prince to have had long hair? (d) Could the host pur- 
chase female gear (1. 196) fit for countesses in a rustic town ? (<?) Does 
costly bribe (1. 200) mean money ? (f) Did the disguised young men re- 
ceive assistance (1. 201) apparently in getting upon their horses? 
(g) Why does the author make the Prince say (1. 202) boldly ? 

14 (a) Why does the author have the young men (1. 204) arrive so 
late ? (b) What does woman-statue and four winged horses suggest ? 



canto i] A MEDLEY 12$ 

205 Copse. The shrubbery of the grounds. 

207 Rose with wings. A winged Victory, — as over man, perhaps. 
209 Cf. II. 178. 

213 Of clocks and chimes. Striking, just as they arrive, the hour. 
Cf 1. 204. 

218 Her song. The singing nightingale is the male [Cf IV. 104), 
though the poets usually follow the tradition that it is feminine. 

Careless of the snare. That is being set, by the presence of the 
intruders, for the peace and security of this little Amazonian realm. 

219 For a sign. That the Goddess of Wisdom is at home here to the 
female world. 

220 Blazon' d like Heaven and Earth. '-Portrayed, the one with a 
map of the earth, the other with a map of the sky. called respectively 
terrestrial and celestial globes." — Wallace. 

226 Full-blown. Not in cap and gown, but full evening dress. The 
college office, we note, is open after midnight. 
Gave. Opened upon. 

230 Prettiest. Why not ' prettier ' ? 

233, 234 Interpretative of the angle, as well as the relative height, of 
the back-hand letters. 

239 Uranian Venus. The heavenly or spiritual Venus, daughter of 
Ouranos, not the younger, grosser Love, daughter of Zeus and Dione, 
and mother of the bandaged Cupid. 

244 Glazed with muffled moonlight. " Overlaid with the smooth ra- 
diance of the moon shining from behind a thin curtain of cloud." — 
Wallace. 

245 Just seen that it was rich. " The Prince's dream is meant to 
show the state of his expectant mind, and reflects his first impression of 
the 'land of hope.' " — Woodberry. He sees the shore vaguely enough, 
but is sure he discerns the degree of the romantic richness there. 

(c) Can you imagine how this street, half garden and half house, must 
have looked ? (d) Can you explain why there were so many clocks ? 

15 (a) Is there anything distinctively feminine (11. 219-222) about the 
lamps and sign ? (b) What relation evidently suggested between these ? 

(c) Why do not these young men dismount (cf. 1. 201) without assistance ? 

(d) What of mood and manners is suggested (1. 225) by sailed? (e) Is 
there anything especially feminine (11. 230, 231) in the inquiries the boys 
make ? (/) Why should an executive clerk entertain such questions ? 
Does she not feel that it amounts to connivance against Blanche ? (g) Is 
the feminine enthusiasm here (one voice, cried, 1. 232) well counterfeited ? 
(h) What satire in 11. 232-234 ? 

16(a) What rank does ladies (I. 235) imply? (/;) What means, 
exactly, your own ? 

17 (a) Would a seal of the device (11. 238-240) described be likely to 
impress the Princess ? How ? (b) Why was the letter to be sent with 
dawn? (c) What is the mood (11. 242-245) that insistently colors the 
Prince's dreams ? 



126 THE PRINCESS [canto II 



CANTO II. 

I Break of day. Tbe authorities here do not apparently insist much 
on sleep. Cf. I. 225, 226, and note on the latter line. 

2, 3 Cf. Prologue, 11. 143-145- 

8 I first. This sounds like Tennyson, but according to the conditions 
(Prol., 220, 221; also 235, 236) cannot come from the person who has 
given us Canto I. But cf. Conclusion, 1. 3. 

10 Lucid. Highly polished, as being newly set up; not dull as pol- 
ished marble becomes with age. 

I I Awnings gay. In visualizing contrast with the chaste marble. 

13 Muses. It is well to know the names of these, and what each in- 
spires to or presides over. 

Graces. The three attendants upon Aphrodite: Aglaia, Thalia, and 
Euphrosyne. 

14 Enring'd. l Formed themselves into a ring about.' 

18 Board. Not an elaborate and polished table. Cf. 1. 90, below. 

21 The Princess. Note the withholding, during generic details, of 
the sentence subject. Cf. Paradise Lost, Bk. II. 1-5. 

21-23 Mars, tnat i s > or Mercury. ''The idea is that, the more nearly 
a planet revolved about the sun, the center of all life and light, the purer 
and finer and nobler [as well as more potent and commanding] might we 
imagine its inhabitants to be." — Wallace. 

18 (a) What is the meter of the Song? (b) Is any effect apparent 
from the unlike length of the lines ? (c) Is a quarrel generally settled by 
outside forces? (d) Must such influences be potent or the contrary? 
(e) Tennyson omitted 11. 6-9 tentatively, in one edition, and some critics 
think they should have been permanently left out. Do you think so ? 
Why ? (f) How far is the element of time requisite in such a lyric ? 

II. 

1 (a) Is it distinctively feminine to begin (1. 1) college functions at 
daylight ? Or is it one of the Princess's reforms ? (5) If this had been a 
"mixed" college, would or would not the distinctive colors have been 
in quantity and quality such ? (c) Is there any suggestion of conscious 
comfort or the opposite in when these were on? (d) Is the formality of 
announcing (11. 6, 7) due to the Princess or to the supposed rank of the' 
guests? (e) Why do the boys (11. 8-16) note everything so closely? 
Have they not seen elegance before ? (/) What, as to mode of life or 
state of mind, does the leaving of book or lute (1. 16) out over night 
signify ? (g) Why are there no busts or statues of great men ? 

2 (a) What does board (1. 18) suggest as to the appointments of the 
room ? (b) What is the Princess doing, at this early hour, with tome 
and paper ? (c) What of the mind that expresses itself (1. 19) in pets of 
this size ? (</ ) Does the Princess seem younger than the Prince ? 



canto n] A MEDLEY 1 27 

26 Lived thro' her. Made up the life in her physical personality. 

27 Her height. Accusative of extreme limit, of the verb action. 

28 Redound. Large returns. 

29 Of use and glory. Of inward profit ; of credit and fame abroad. 

30 First fruits of the stranger. "The first that we have attracted 
from outside the boundaries of our own country. " — 11 r allace. The stranger 
seems to be collective, rather than the representative singular. Cf. the 
French I'e't ranger. 

31 The confident judgment that is reached, concerning a person's 
merits, after his death. 

36 Climax of his age. The highest expression of culture and char- 
acter that the age has yet evolved. 

38 Your ideal. Not 'what serves as an ideal to you,' — which would 
be the natural meaning, but 'the ideal that attaches to your character,' 
1 that is constituted in your personality; ' your being the equivalent of a 
genitive of connection, or genitive subjective. Dawson thinks {Study of 
the Princess, p. 70) that Tennyson makes Cyril misspeak himself, intend- 
ing to say his for " your. " But it hardly seems likely that the author 
would introduce to the Princess this Cyril, the man least capable of in- 
certitude in all the group, by such a blunder of speech. 

41 Light coin. Not the sterling coin of real appreciation, but the 
counterfeit of compliment only, that betrays its falseness in clink and tin- 
sel glitter. 

44 Child. Said again contemptuously. Cf. I. 136, and note. 

46 Our self. Cf. I. 12 1, and note. 

48 Cast and fling. Either would seem to do the work of both. But 
the Princess is probably trying to compass a stronger expression than she 
finds. By the omission of ' away ' she thinks perhaps to compass greater 
force. Cf. the former verb in "cast a shoe." 

52 Justlicr balanced. Given more nearly their equal weight. 

55 Statutes. College rules. 

(«?) What mood evidently prompts this rising (1. 27) to her height, and 
pronouncing formal welcome to just three persons ? (/) Do you think 
her taller than these disguised young men ? 

3 (a) How do you account for the sudden drop (1. 33) from sublime 
formality to its opposite ? (b) What part of Cyril's answer takes stress, 
and what modulation goes with it ? (c) What mood prompts (1. 34) the 
echoing, and the following question? (</) Do you think Cyril speaks 
(11. 36-38) of purpose, having read the Princess' mind, or at a venture ? 
(e) What makes the Princess say (1. 45) him instead of "the Prince," 
with so many lines since the last reference ? (/) Why does she (1. 49) 
say tricks ? (g) Who has prepared, in the Prologue, for this Ida ? 

4 (a) Is the looking down (1. 54) due to affected maiden modesty, or 
what other mood ? (b) What is the Princess's object in keeping her 
pupils from home, even in vacation time, three years ? (c) Why should 
they hastily (I. 59) subscribe? (d) How is the Princess subordinated 



128 THE PRINCESS [canto ii 

60 Enter d on the boards. The English University phrase for "regis- 
tered." 

62 Not of those. Not representative of such types of beauty. 

63 Sleek. Cf. Elaine, 1. 250 : " had been the sleeker for it." 
Odalisques. Slaves of a Turkish harem. 

64 Stunted squaws. Examples, this time, of man's neglect and abuse. 
64, 65 The nymph Egeria, who is reputed to have been the author of 

the institutions and laws established by Numa Pompilius, second king of 
Rome. Cf. Livy, Bk. I. XIX. 

66 Semiramis. '-Wife of Ninus, a legendary personage, to whom are 
ascribed innumerable marvelous deeds and heroic achievements. The 
gigantic city of Babylon is only one of many that she is said to have 
built. She is supposed to have lived about B.C. 2182." — Wallace. 

67 Carian Artemisia. The Queen of Halicarnassus, who fought in 
alliance with Xerxes, in the battle of Salamis, against the Greeks. Xerxes, 

\ on witnessing her energy and daring, is said to have exclaimed, "My 
men have become women, and my women men." 

68 "The structure in question was really the work of another woman, 
Nicotris, sister and wife of Mycerinus, — who himself began the erection, 
but died before the completion; it was however generally attributed in 
ancient times, and even after the exposure of the falseness of the story, 
to Rhodopis, a Greek courtesan. Her name, signifying ' the Rosy- 
cheeked,' Tennyson has altered in both form and accent." — Wallace. 
Tennyson also makes the Princess accept the earlier legend. 

69 Clelia. A Roman maiden, given as a hostage to Ears Porsena, 
while he was besieging Rome in behalf of the Tarquins. She is said to 
have escaped by swimming the Tiber on horseback. 

Cornelia. Daughter of Scipio Africanus, and mother of the Gracchi. 

The Palmyrene. Zenobia, Queen of Palmyra, who defied Aurelian. 

70, 71 Roman brows of Agrippina. A classic way of mentioning the 

simple name; really a case of phrasing. Cf. p. liv. " The Princess is 

pointing out the marble statue of Agrippina, of which no doubt the brows 

would indicate the dignity of that lady's character." — Wallace. 

72 Convention. Conventional ideas and aims. 

73 Makes noble. ' ' A Platonic doctrine, often reproduced in poetry, 
that to look on beautiful things makes the soul itself beautiful through the 
eye. " — Woodberry. 

81 Harangue. It will not be an informal address of welcome, evi- 
dently. The author perhaps uses the word in part to justify the rather 
remarkable " effort " that we are soon to hear. 

86 To Lady Psyche's. A rather remarkable extension, considering the 
general dignity of this poem, of the colloquial idiom 'to my father's,' ' to 

(1. 68), with us, to the young men? (<?) If this hall were a public 
gallery, open that is to men, would this statue have place in it ? (/) Did 
a man make it ? (g ) What has blinded the Princess to admitting it ? 
(/z) How do you account (1. 80; for the two dismissals? 



canto n] A MEDLEY 1 29 

my uncle's,' — chez mon onclc. It means, not Psyche's suite of rooms, or 
'home,' but lecture-hall. 

87 Forms. Benches. 

90 Satin-wood. Compare what is seen here of Psyche's taste with 
Ida's, 11. 18, 19, 54, above. 

94 Headed like a star. Wallace quotes Hallam Tennyson's gloss; 
"with bright golden hair." 

96 Aglaia. Cf. 1. 13, above, and note, second paragraph. 
Sat. Took seats. 

The Lady glanced. That is, at these three new-comers. Cf 1. 285, 
below. 

97 No livelier. In an almost suppressed whisper. 

Than the dame. The wife of Midas, king of Phrygia. Unable to 
keep her husband's secret, after he had been doomed to wear asses' ears 
by Apollo, she ran and told it to the water beside the sedge. Tennyson 
here follows Chaucer ( Wife of Bath's Tale, 11. 96-122). The classical 
version makes the betrayer of the king's secret to have been his barber. 

101-104 "These lines give a concise summary of the ' Nebular Hy- 
pothesis ' as formulated by the French mathematician and astronomer 
Laplace (1749-1827)." — Wallace. 

105 Woaded. " Dyed with woad. a former substitute for indigo. It 
is identified with vitritm, with which, according to Caesar, the ancient 
Britons painted their bodies." — Cook. 

106 Raw from the prime. " Only just issuing into existence, in the 
very dawn of human life. We have ' prime ' again in this sense in In 
Memoriam, LVI. 22, 23: 'Dragons of the prime, that tare each other in 
their slime.' " — Wallace. 

112 Appraised. Estimated, brought out the value of. 

Lycian custom. The Lycians took their surnames from their 
mothers, who kept their family names. 

113 Lay at wine. Were permitted to recline, at the feasts, with their 
lords. 

Lar and Lucumo. " Lar or Lars was an honorary appellation in 
Etruria and equals the English Lord {Cf. Macaulay, Horatius: ' Lars 

5 (a) What is there in common between the waiting range (1. 89) of 
piipils and doves sunning themselves? (/;) Why does Psyche have a 
desk (1. 90) of satin-wood, while the Princess {cf. 1. 18) not? (<:) Why 
does Tennyson make Psyche (1. 93) so young? (d) Why is the child (1. 
94) clad in shining draperies ? (e) What is its age, told in the prose 
way ? (/) Is the language here used to say it phrasing ? (f) What of 
the taste in the name Aglaia ? (g) Why is not Florian (1. 97) livelier ? 
What is his mood ? 

6 (a) What do you say of the intellectual range and vigor of 11. 101- 
108 ? (0) What of this as the exordium of an oration, — what will the 
oration be ? (c) Does Psyche seem to regard the cruelty of man (1. 106) 
as a phase of pristine crudeness, to be evolved away ? 



130 THE PRINCESS [canto ii 

Porsena of Clusium,' etc.); and Luciano was a title given to the Etrus- 
can princes and priests, like the Roman patricius." — Rolfc. 

117 Fulmirid. Thundered. 

Laws Salique, By Salic law, no female could inherit a kingdom, 
or even a fief. 

118 Mahomet. "Does she allude to a report once popular that Ma- 
homet denied that women had souls, or had she heard that according to 
the Mahommedan doctrine hell was peopled chiefly with women?" — 
Hallam Tennyson. Wallace, who quotes this, adds: "That Mohamed 
effected a vast improvement in the condition of the women of Arabia is 
of course ignored by Lady Psyche, who knows only the items, not the 
circumstances, of his legislation, and condemns him by reference to her 
ideal standard." 

121 Superstition all awry. Respect that was nothing better than dis- 
torted superstition. 

122 A beam. Of new light, new Truth. 

126 Rotten pales. Palings that had once seemed strong, but were 
now proved not only weak, but even rotten with age. 

128 That which made. This seems to imply an impersonal First 
Cause, yet one which could create and inaugurate personality. 

129 Woman and man. According to her Scriptures, apparently, Eve 
was first created, then Adam. 

132 Some men s were small. " The heads of some men, and those not 
the least in intellectual power, were small ; the fineness of the brain 
fibre and the intricacy of its convolutions make up for the mere size and 
weight of the brain." — Woodberry. 

Of men. Of mankind. Cf. Latin homo, which is of common gender. 
Even this speaker consents to be merged in the generic " man." 

144 Homer, Plato, Verulam. "These are quoted as names eminent 
respectively in the domains of Poetry, Philosophy, and Natural Science. 
Verulam was the title of the barony conferred on Bacon in 1618." — 
Wallace. 

144, 145 Even so with woman. " The third point in favor of woman's 
mental equality with man is that her capacity is to be measured by that 
of the greatest of her sex, as man's is." — Woodberry. 

147 Peasant yoan. Joan of Arc. 

148 Sappho. "A lyric poetess of Mytilene in Lesbos, about the 
beginning of the sixth century before Christ. Her work only survives 
in fragments, but from the exquisite beauty of these we can to some ex- 
tent understand the unbounded admiration that ancient writers have 

J (a) What of the ideals or practices of the Amazons can Psyche have 
had (11. no, ill) in mind? (b) How did the dawn (1. 122) commence 
with chivalry ? What was the slanting beam ? (c) What makes her put 
woman (1. 129) as taking precedence with man ? (d) Have woman's- 
rights agitators ever done the like? (e) How many "others" might be 
named with Elizabeth (1. 146) and Sappho (1. 148)? (/) What js the 



canto n] A MEDLEY I3I 

expressed for her genius, and appreciate the magnitude of the loss that 
literature has sustained in the destruction of her works." — Wallace. 

150 Bowed her state to them. Lowered the level of her existence to 
the plane of theirs. 

151 Oasis. That is, in the desert of social order. 

157 In the tangled business of the world. The notion is that woman is 
not to avoid competition with man in the commercial and industrial 
sphere because she is a woman. The wife shall share the perplexities 
of her husband's business with him, as likewise inaugurate ventures, if 
she will, in which he shall be ancillary and subordinate to her. 

158 liberal offices of life. As the profession of letters, or of admin- 
istering the higher education. 

166 Parted. Departed ; a Gallicism. 

168 Gratulation. Congratulation. 

168, 169 " Notice the skill with which the metre of this passage is 
distorted to correspond to the sense. The confused structure of 169, 
pauses in the middle of the first and the fourth foot, and the introduction 
into 170 of two extra syllables that must be hastened over, seem to sym- 
pathize with the shock, the interruption, and the tremor which the poet 
is describing." — Wallace. 

178 Cf I. 209, 210. 

180 Softer Adams. The women who are trying to remake the race, 
by assuming men's accomplishments and tasks. Softer takes some stress. 
The innuendo is that these reformers thus would be as cruel as the men 
they are trying to put to shame. 

Academe. "Academy: the name suggests, in this form, Plato's 
academy, the source and pattern of the schools for higher instruction 
and learning in ancient days." — Woodberry. 

first emphasis in 1. 150? (g) Does Psyche look upon the new movement 
as a phase (cf. 11. 101-104) of the universal plan, or as perhaps beyond 
it, or unallied ? (h) How far do you think that she or the Princess would 
accept subserviency to man, were this discerned as in accord with natural 
law? 

8 (<?) What difference between her sentiments and the Princess's (cf. 1. 
50) concerning marriage ? (b) Can you explain why there is a differ- 
ence ? (c) Do you find signs of a once romantic or sentimental mind ? 
(d) Does Psyche mean (1. 164) that rare poetic natures must publish 
books ? 

9 (a) Is it beckon' d (1. 165) or us that takes the stress ? (l>) Why does 
she wish (cf. 1. 96) to detain these new-comers ? Do you think she has 
recognized already (cf. 1. 285) who they are ? (c) Why does not the fal- 
tering and fluttering take place (11. 166-170) at once? (d) What does 
the metric construction of the line suggest ? (e) What is Florian's mood 
(1. 171) in welll (f) What "plot" does she suspect? (g) How much 
younger (1. 176) is Florian than his sister, or than the Prince? (h) 
Why is it that Florian cannot (11. 179-182, and 187-192) take his sister 



132 THE PRINCESS [canto ii 

1 8 1 Sirens. ' ' The appropriateness of this comparison is derived 
from the fact that it was by their irresistible charm and attractiveness 
that these enchantresses of Greek Mythology allured men to their doom." 
— Wallace, 

1 88 Grange. Granary, or barn. 

189 For warning. To other intruders of the male species. 

197 Affiancd. The Prince asserts his right to be here very mildly. 
Cf I. 31, 32. 

204 Vestal limit. Precincts as sacred from profanation as the Ves- 
tals' in ancient Rome. 

207 For. As for. 

208 Deadly lurks. Lurkings of death. 

209 Garth. Orchard, garden. 

214 Will topple to the trumpet down. Will fall, like the walls of 
Jericho, at the first note of violence. He means that no patrons will 
recognize it after that. 

Pass. That is, out of existence. Cf. " passing bell." 

223 Sun-shaded. Provided with a shade from the sun. The picture 
showed the light falling from above, across the brows, and fended, from 
the eyes, of the Baron, as he stood erect over the prostrate king. The 
-ed is here the adjective suffix, as in ox-eyed, blue-stockinged, etc. 

224 Bestrode. To save from death or capture. Cf. Shakespeare, 
Com. of Errors V. i. 192, 193 : " When I bestrid thee in the wars, and 
took deep scars to save thy life ; " and Macbeth IV. iii. 4. 

227 Branches. Extends itself in new branches of the family. 

229 Morning hills. Hills in the early morning. 

230 Raced the purple fly. Tried the speed of butterflies by pursuit. 
234, 235 Read down to happy dreams. Allay the nervousness, the 

excitement of fever by reading me asleep. 

241 Sapience. Wisdom. " Scattered," naturally, somewhat reduces 
the compliment. 

245-246 Said in reference to Psyche's declaration in 11. 200, 201. 



seriously ? (i) Why cannot Psyche see, or feel, the ground (1. 184) of the 
iest? (J) What (11. 193, 194) is Cyril's motive? (k) How should, how 
does Psyche regard what he says ? 

10 (a) Does Psyche recognize the motive (11. 195-199) with which the 
Prince now speaks ? (b) What mood is evident (1. 200) in her exclama- 
tions ? (c) Why does affiandd stir her so? (d) What reason has the 
author -given the Princess for disliking the Prince? (e) Does Psyche 
really believe that the Prince's head, or Florian's, will be chopped off? 
(/) How can the Prince discuss the case with her (11. 207-216) so 
earnestly ? What of his character as discerned in this ? 

11 (a) What is the Prince's impulse now (11. 219-227) ? (b) What, in 
the lines following, is Florian's ? (c) What, after him, is Cyril's ? 

12 (a) What does now (11. 242-249) the Prince instinctively attempt? 



canto ii J A MEDLEY 1 33 

254 SobVd. " Cf. As You Like It, II. i. 66: 'the sobbing deer.'" 
— Cook. 

263" Spartan mother. Who could sacrifice all maternal feeling to the 
public good. 

264 Lucius Junius Brutus. "Brutus, elected consul in B.C. 509, 
upon the expulsion of the Tarquins, was so determined to maintain the 
freedom of the infant Republic committed to his charge that, having de- 
tected his two sons in a conspiracy with other young nobles to restore 
the banished dynasty, he did not hesitate to order them to execution." — 
Wallace. 

269 Secular. Enduring. through the generations. 

274 Fleckless. Without flecks or stains. 

276 As you came. Adhering to your disguises. 

282 To-and-fro. An adverb phrase, made substantive by the omis- 
sion of l pacing,' which it should modify. 

294 Household talk. Talk concerning members of the household 
circle. 

Phrases of the hearth. Domestic allusions. 

304 Her mother's color. Cf. 1. 3, above ; and I. 229, 230. 

306, 307 Bottom agates ; morning seas. Cf. 1. 229, and note. 

316 Elm and vine. Vines, in classic times, were trained to grow for 
support on elms. Cf. Vergil, Eclogues, II. 70. 

319 Dana'id. "The Danaids, daughters or Danaus, king of Argos, 
having murdered their husbands, sons of yEgyptus, were punished in 
Hades by condemnation to carry water in sieves. The expression there- 
fore means 'be found unable to keep your secret.' " — Wallace. 

(/>) How different (11. 250-258) is Elorian's impulse from before ? (c) 
What new chord does Cyril (11. 259-261) attempt to strike ? 

13 (a) Can Psyche's double a fortiori argument (11. 265-271) be an- 
swered ? (b) Why does she abandon it ? (c) Is she aware of the in- 
consistency between her principles and the little yielding ? (d) Can 
you explain yet (1. 274) ? [e) Can you explain the absurdity of the con- 
ditions? (/) Why does she not say absolutely to-day? (g) If Florian 
had not been of the party, would she have ordained differently? (h) Why 
does she (1. 271) leave Cyril out? (z) Is the explanation (11. 278, 279) 
creditably veracious ? (J) Can you explain why it is proposed ? 

14 (a) Does the Prince imply (1. 280) that they will keep the promise ? 
Was Psyche sure they would ? (/;) Why does he say What could we 
else? (c) What prompts (1. 282) the to-and-fro? (d) Why is Psyche 
sad (1. 286) to see her brother ? (e) How could duty (1. 288) speak, 
apart from Psyche ? (/) What does Tennyson think he has demon- 
strated concerning woman's capacity to administer justice ? 

15 (a) Why is Psyche so slow (11. 290-292) to embrace her brother? 
(b) Whose tears (11. 295, 296) began to fall? (c) Is rapt (1. 297) ap- 
propriate here ? (d) Why did Psyche start (1. 299) backward? (J) Why 
does Melissa stand with (1. 304) her lips apart ? 



134 THE PRINCESS [canto ii 

320 Foundation. Institution, establishment. 

Rain. " This intransitive of the word is not common. We 
have it again in Lucretius, 40 [Ruining along the illimitable inane]." 
Wallace. 

323 Aspasia. "The most famous intellectual woman of Greece, the 
friend of Pericles, and the center of the group about him in Athens." — 
Woodberry. 

325 Sheba. " Not the name of % a woman, but of a country. But in 
all periods of English literature it has been common to assume that 
Sheba (or Saba, following the Latin) was her own name." — Cook. 

338 Affect abstraction. Pose as students wholly absorbed in study. 
or meditation occasioned by it. Psyche evidently does not regard all 
appearances hereabout as genuine. 

347 Theatres. Lecture-halls, with the seats arranged "crescent- 
wise " as in large theaters. 

353 Lilted out. Hallam Tennyson explains, "declaimed in a femi- 
nine voice." — Wallace. 

354 Violet-hooded. These young men keep away from the lecture- 
rooms of Psyche's rival. 

355 Jewels ^ five-words-long. " Short, immortal phrases, perfect in 
expression, which are well known; such as are to be found in Shake- 
speare, Vergil, or other poets." — Woodberry. 

356, 357 That Time holds out for the admiration of mankind as he 
speeds by. 

358-363 Note how the author again (cf. Prol. 59-79) .presents scien- 
tific ideas interpretatively, to avoid prosaic terms. Cf. p. xi. 

16 (a) What mood is apparent (1. 309) in Ah — Melissa — yon? (/>) How 
does Melissa know that these three are men ? (c) Why should she at 
once, as a matter, of course, turn derelict to her mother, and to the 
Princess, and to her duty ? (il) What does she at once (1. 323) think 
of as the most covetable thing ? What has caused this ? (e) What 
prompts Cyril (11. 329-335) now? (/) Is there evidence that Psyche 
likes or dislikes this ? (g) Does Cyril know, or sense, that preposter- 
ous boldness like this displeases, and yet may please ? 

17 (a) Does Cyril pet the child (1. 341-345) for its own sake? (b) 
Why should not Florian have done this ? (c) Why is the child in the 
mother's lecture room at all ? (d) Had there been pupils of the other 
sex, would she have brought in the child ? (e) While Psyche attempted 
to give the disguised culprits to death, was the presence of the child in 
keeping ? (f) What does Psyche's watching and smiling (1. 344) show ? 

18 (a) How early was it apparently when the boys (11. 54-60) ma- 
triculated ? What time of the day has now arrived ? (b) Why does 
the Prince say (1. 349) the grave Professor ? (e) Of whose authorship 
are the scraps (1. 353) of Epic! (d) How far is gorged with knowledge 
(1. 366) said seriously? (e) What moods now shown by the three friends, 
and to what is each due? (/) What does Florian (11. 370, 371) really 



canto n] A MEDLEY 135 

078-381 "Cyril's meaning is that up to that time love was unknown 
within the sacred precincts of the College. He expresses himself in the 
language of Classical Mythology, and represents the absence of the 
passion as due to the futile attempts of baby Cupids to wound with 
headless arrows." — Wallace. 

383 Golden-shafted firm. Archers that are associated in the use of 
golden arrows. For "firm," cf. I. 149, and note. 

384 "A reference to the Creek legend of Eros and Psyche, whose 
mutual attachment seems to signify the necessity of love to the human 
soul. " — Wallace. 

387-389 The Prince is forced to submit to rallying references of this 
sort continually. Cf. I. 80-83. 

388 Malison. "A French form of the Latin derivative malediction, 
like benison for benediction; used in 'romantic writing.' " — Cook. 

391 Substance. Said here of course in double meaning. 

394 Three castles. Cf. I. 74-78. 

Patch my tattered coat. Cf. I. 51, 52. Note the heraldic pun. 

398 Zone. Cyril's burlesque phrasing (cf p. liv.) for 'lady's belt.' 

399 Unmanri d me. A very successful quibble. 

401, 402 "A ringing metaphor from a captive lion, an animal with 
vehement passions that he cannot indulge." — Wallace. And the effect- 
iveness of the metaphor consists of course in its bantering, ironic 
appositeness. 

403 Mincing. "Making less by affected nicety and delicacy." — 
Woodberry. 

404 Bassoon. Remarkable for its deep bass tones. 

406 Star-sisters answering. Pairs of bright eyes responsive to my 
glances. 

415 Hallam Tennyson comments thus: "The colors of the lilac and 
daffodil have a splendid effect when placed together in masses." — 
Wallace. 

420 Second-sight. Prophetic anticipation. 

Astrczan age. i i According to the old legend Astraea, the daugh- 
ter of Zeus and Themis, lived among men during the Golden Age, and was 



think of Psyche's lecture, — that it was original? (g) What was the 
trash (1. 373) and what the kernel ? (h) What wisdom does Cyril mean 
(1. 374) he got? (i) Can you explain why Cyril speaks in such a vein? 
(J) Why does Florian allow it? (k) Why does Cyril say (1. 396) sister 
Psyche? (I) What does he mean to imply (1. 398) in much I might have 
said? (m) Cannot Cyril see anything serious (11. 399-401) in the work 
of the college? (n) What does he mean (1. 401) in / thought to roar} 
(0) Why (1. 405) abase his eyes ? (/) What is significant (1. 410) in but, — 
or what goes with it? 

19 (a) Where do these students (1. 411), in Cambridge parlance, now 



136 7 HE ?F:'?:CESS [cam 

the last of the deities to leave when that passed ^ was believed 

moreover that she would be the first to re-establish her home on earth 
should the Gold-: urn. There is a famous reference to 

this theory in VergiL and it reappears in many English poets — Milton, 
Pope, and notably in the tide of Dryden's ode in celebration of the Res- 
torat: — lace. 

425 Faded form. Presumably here a figurative way of . 

126 Falsely brox Kept brown by dyeing. 

_ j 3 Shallop. A smalL bight boat 

443 faces covered as much as practicable, obedient 

- to Psyche's bidding. 

white. They had donned white surplices before 
c iv.ir.j : ...:.z -_-".. 

449 Two streams of light. Perhaps from windows, back of the altar, 

I x the su: 
^.52 Melodious thunder. Tennyson elsewhere {In Jfemoriam. 

KVIL 5-8) attempts to develop this meaning more completely. 
453 Silver litanies. The song portions, apparently, of some litur- 
gical office. Silver is said of the quality of these voices, being sopranos 
and altos only. 

j: 5 _t The work of Ida. At least the Prayer-book. It is to be hoped 
that Ida's ecclesiastics ventured no disappr. 



mainly at this time ? (c) What are your impressions 425 _:o) coo-, 
cerning Lady Blanche r ige What characterizati" I here? 

20 What sort of a student is this who walks (L 430) reciting by her- 

■vho reads and pets the peacock (U. 431 
same time ? What means read here ? [c) What is the age of those play- 
ing (11. 435-437 "all and hide and seek? (d) Why are not the others 

more careful about being heard ? Is this overdraw:, 
should the young men sit closely muffled at such moments ? Why 
Cyril heard from ? (/) Why does Mel: ssa 444) come ? i^)What 

court (L 451) is referred to ? (h) At what point in the day are chapel 
services at Cambridge held ? (i) What is the effect on your feelings, about 
:..: : :'.'.-: r~ vr:.:.Lrr. ::. :..t list :e: lir.rs ? 

21 What should the rhythm of a cradle song be imitated from or 

: - remarkable about the meter in the third line of this 
soDg ? (c) Is there or is there not the suggestion (11. 1 : ^.atthe 

s thoughts are now upon his child ? (d) Which is the most potent, 
:lt .Ti:t ;_'_•. :i. :.--.z ----- ::. :.. . ... .- :-~i.y : 



canto in] A MEDLEY 1 37 



CANTO III. 

I Now the third of the seven speakers takes up the story. 

White wake. Venus, on account of the small diameter of her orbit, 
seems always tu follow or precede the sun. The sun now comes on. as 
in the silver wake of a vanished vessel, breaking the sky into ridges or 
wavelets of molten gold. 

4 Three parts. The lower three fourths of the columns are yet 
shaded. 

5 Were touched. With the ringers of the Dawn. The author seems 
to have Homer's 'pododocKrului 'Hal-. • Rosy-lingered Dawn.' at the 
bottom of his thought. 

9 Watt. Paleness. 

II Iris. Of course, a somewhat exaggerated figure of degree, like 
"glowing." in 1. io. There was the vivid suggestion of blended color, 
as in the upper bands of the rainbow. "Circled' - is said because the 
■ Iris ' is inverted, the arc is become a full circumference. 

1 8 Head. •• The technical term for the Master or Principal of a 
College."' — Wall 

26 Wild barbarians. One would think "wild" unnecessary here, 
with such a precisian as the Lady Blanche. "Barbarians." -barba- 
rous,' seem ready words, in the parlance of this college, and used as 
readily of women as of men. Cf. II. 27S: IV. 516. 

34 Set in rubric. Print or publish in red; said pedantically as of old 
printing, which set certain words or initial letters for prominence in 
thatcolor. 

III. 

1 (a) Do the first two lines here show, as their major quality, more of 
the sublime or of the beautiful ? Why ? (b) Why should the three young 
men again wake and rise so early? (<-) Since the boys are to don but the 
college gowns of yesterday, what need that they be (1. 3) each by other 
dress' d with care? (d) Why does the author personify in the last two 
lines? (e) What pictures, in consequence, do you see? 

2 (a) How can the young men seem (1. S)'to watch, but not be sure 
about it? (b) What are they waiting for? (c) Has Melissa apparently 
shrunk from coming to these young men? Why? (d) Why did she 
not go instead to Psyche ? (e) What aroused Blanche, last night, to can- 
vass the new-comers ? (/') If they had been petite, graceful creatures, 
what would she have said? (g) What means (1. 3i)_/f.v? (A) What is 
the point and inspiration of (1. 32) Blanche's irony ? (/) What are the 
thoughts (1. 34) she is pleased to attribute to her daughter? (/) Do you 
think this divining of the truth by Blanche improbable ? Why ? (h) 
Why does Melissa care for the pardon of these fellows ? Where are her 
sympathies, and why ? 



138 THE PRINCESS [canto in 

44 Clutch* d. As a miser would grasp a new-found treasure. 
52 Those lilies. That paleness. 

54 Classic angel. Girl poet, within the college, who affects classic 
figures and allusions! Cyril will have it that all the literature of the 
college is of this quality. 

55 Ganymedes. The Trojan youth Ganymede was borne aloft to 
Olvmpus by Jove's eagle, and made cup-bearer to the gods, in Hebe's 
stead. Cf. Vergil, JEneid I. 28. 

56 Vulcans. "Vulcan, the god of metal-working, was the son of 
Juno. Zeus hurled him from heaven; he fell on Lemnos. and was lame 
ever after. He made armor for the gods and heroes in his workshop in 
Mount .Etna." — Woodberry. 

57 This marble. Lady Blanche's heartless and unimpressionable 
state of mind. '"In like manner 'wax' denotes impressibility. Cf. 
Shakespeare. The Rape of Lucrece, 1240 : 'For men have marble, 
women waxen minds.' " — Wallace. 

59 Curls. It was the fashion for women to wear curls, at the time 
this poem was composed. 

61 Right and left. " Cf. 1. 19. Cf. these terms as used in legislative 
assemblies." — Cook. 

62, 63 Poetic, for ' since long ago division has been smouldering.' 

64 Two reasons: jealousy; a petulant disposition. 

68 Still. The Elizabethan meaning. Cf. I. 34. 

73 Inosculated. "Blent together into one. The word is generally 
used in special derivative application to the case of veins and other 
vessels that have been made to run into one another, but here there is 
no doubt a closer reference to the etymology of the word, which is de- 
rived from the Latin oscular, 'to kiss,' and thus signifies primarily unity 
through affection. " — Wallace. 

74 Consonant chords. Strings tuned in unison. 

Shiver to one note. Vibrate when the same note is struck on 
another instrument. " Shiver " is here ' to vibrate in aroused emotion '; 
a degree figure. 

77 With them. As baits, in sheerest hypocrisy. 

80 As flies the shadow. An extreme degree figure. 

3 (a) Why will Cyril have it that it must be a classic (1. 541 angel ? (b) 
Why should Cyril not consult the Prince about the step he takes ? (c) 
What is the reason that he wants ''further furlough " ? 

4 (a) Why does Melissa stay ? {/>) Why does the author make 
Florian ask this question ? (Y) Does she or does she not suppose that 
Psyche's defection saves her from responsibilities of her own ? Can you 
explain ? (d) How can she grow so confidential (11. 63-68), at such 
cost, with these young men? (<?) Why does she say (1. 76) your ? (f) 
How can Psyche have become so intimate as told (11. 315, 316) in the 
preceding canto, with Melissa ? 

5 (a) Why should not Florian (1. 83), like the Prince, be attracted to a 



canto m] A MEDLEY 139 

85 Close with. ' Take up,' as of a tempting offer. 
Random. Unconsidered, trivial. 

86 Your. Cf. Latin isle. 

90 Clang. Not a kind-figure surely, but chosen to indicate in degree 
the stern, almost metallic quality of the eagle's note. " To celebrate in 
lordly ringing song, as contrasted with the harsh cry of the crane, and 
the gentle coo of the dove." — Wallace. 
Sphere. The sky, the upper air. 

99 Samian Here. The wife of Zeus, patron deity of Samos, and re- 
markable for dignity and stately carriage. 

100 Memnon. "A colossal statue near Thebes in Egypt, the stone of 
which is said, when reached by the rays of the rising sun, to have given 
forth a sound resembling that of a breaking chord (Pausaniasl. 42, § 2)." 
— Cook. The comparison is again one of degree; not this time of her 
presence, but her speech, her voice. All the manifestations of the Prin- 
cess's nature have thus far been drawn for us on an heroic scale. 

104 Empurpled. Hallam Tennyson explains this as signifying "blue 
in the distance." — Wallace. 

Champaign. Open, level country. 

Drank the gale. The air seemed not only breathed, but swal- 
lowed, it was so sweet. 

109 Cf. II. 387-389, and note. 

1 10 CrabVd and gnarTd. Cross-grained and knotty; carpenters' 
figures. 

111 Prime. Primeval. 

Heave and thump. Excavate and macadamize. 

113 Hammer at. A pretty vigorous figure. Not the Shakespearian 
word; cf. Winter s Tale, II. ii. 49. 

Il6 Green malignant light. li Nothing could form a better commentary 
than this on the real meaning of Homer's yXavKiooov as applied to an 
angry lion : it is the peculiar whity green glint flashing from the eye of 
an enraged animal — lion, tiger, cat, or pard — and Tennyson exactly 
expresses its meaning." — Collins. 



stronger personality ? (/>) How far does he understand (1. 86) the 
Princess? (r) How far has Psyche (1. 87), in spite of her brother's 
present judgment, done her own thinking ? 

6 (a) Whom does the Prince (1. 88) refer to as chattering of the 
crane? (/>) Whom as murmuring of the dove? (c) How far is the 
Prince, in his judgment of the Princess (1. 94), correct? (d) What 
larger reason — if the Prince could read her as we ? (e) Whom respect- 
ively does he refer to (1. 96) in her and her ? (/) Is there anything of 
the mock-heroic in the last comparisons, or not ? 

7 (a) What mood, or speed of walk, is suggested (1. 101) by gained? 
(b) What mood is indicated (1. 108) in yawning — or is it character? (c) 
How far is Cyril interested in what he has accomplished? (d) Do you 



140 THE PRINCESS [canto ill 

'120 Fabled nothing fair. Told no false stories to smooth matters 
over. 

121 Your example. Cf. II. 195—199. 

122 ''In her amazement the Lacly Blanche threw up her hands (a 
sign of helplessness), and her eyes (an attitude of appeal to Heaven)." — 
Wallace. 

124 Astray. An exquisitely effectual word for 'irrelevantly.' 

126 Limed. Caught, like birds that alight on boughs smeared over 
with bird-lime. 

130 Puddled. Made muddy, befouled. 

136 Duty duty. Cf. I. 25. The effectiveness of such expressions 
seems due to the use of the repeated word in its completest generic 
sense, while the former noun carries but the involved individual applica- 
tion of the term. Thus "my father thought a king a king" means 
' my father held that a king, no matter if the least worthy and sufficient 
of his sort, must insist on all that kingship typically stands for.' Lady 
Blanche's formula is a very elastic and convenient one for the present 
case. 

147 Head and heart. Here she is neither; for, if Ida is the head, 
Psyche is as surely the heart. Cf 1. 23, above. 

148 Broadening. Tike a river towards the sea. 
154 Dip. Slant to the horizon. 

158 Pan up his furrowy forks. Hallam Tennyson says, "shot up its 
two peaks. " — Wallace. 

159 Platans. Plane-trees. 

160 Pled on. The hours seem, now, to the Prince to have wings. 
173 Were and mere not. Gave both the experiences of being actual, 

and of illusory. 

175-178 The Princess nowhere arouses in the Prince the virile im- 



think he understands women ? Explain, (e) Why do you think Cyril 
began (1. 118) by affecting maiden-meekness? (/") Do you consider his 
frankness (1. 121) tactful? Why? (g) Is there suggestion (1. 139) of 
real discipline in patience? (//) Why did not Cyril say (1. 141) third 
place, as he knew was true ? (/) Does not Blanche realize that Cyril 
cares nothing for her or her cause ? How can she listen to him ? (/) 
Can you see what Cyril has been put into the poem for ? 

8 (a) Does the Princess invite all the new arrivals (11. 153, 154) appar- 
ently for this excursion ? (a) Why should she, the Head, play ad- 
vocate (11. 155-157) to these humble freshmen? (c) Why should the 
tone be so changed from (II. 28-52, 60-84) the one which so palpably 
pervades the first interview? (d) Who is meant (1. 157) by she} 

9 (a) Why did the day (1. 160) now flee? (6) Is there any assignable 
reason why the weird seizure (1. 167) should come now? (c) How far 
is what the Prince sees, according to his statement (11. 169-171), the 
truer view ? 



canto in] A MEDLEY I4 1 

pulse of conquest, but merely the effeminate one of winning her by sub- 
mission. 

179 Retinue. Accented as in Milton and Shakespeare. 

186 The tiling you say. " Too harsh." 

194 The Prince later (IV. 75-98) ventures to tell considerably more 
of this experience. 

206 Our meaning here. The purpose and mission of her sex. 

208 Even. Equally high. 

210 The reason for the proxy-wedding, as furnishing the Princess 
with a motive, becomes clearer. 

212 Vashti. Queen of Ahasuerus. Cf. Esther, Chap. I. 

215 Breathes full East. "For the metaphor — which may have been 
suggested by the preceding reference to a proud and defiant Oriental 
queen, but which is derived from the bitter and blasting character of the 
east wind in England — cf. Aud'ley Court, 51-53." — Wallace. 

2l8 Gray. Hoary, ancient. 

225 Might I dread. May I entertain the fear ? 

230 A worse word than "barbarian " {cf. 1. 26) is necessary now. 

10 (a) How does it chance (1. 181) that the Princess and the Prince 
ride thus together ? (b) Is it or is it not natural that a college president 
should, under such circumstances, lead the conversation ? (<r) Would it 
be likely, or not likely, to be personal ? (d) Can you imagine why it is 
the Prince and not Cyril who finds himself here ? Is there conceivable 
a difference in stature, or some other characteristic, between Fdorian or 
Cyril and the Prince ? (e) If there is ground for suspecting these 
Northern-Empire pupils are but ambassadresses, should you expect the 
Head to listen to them? (/) How far is being strange (1. 188) a 
reason ? 

11 (a) What makes the Prince (1. 190) stammer? (b) Would Cyril 
have mentioned (1. 191) precontract? (c) Suppose the speaker had 
hinted something to the effect that the Prince was trying, and not unsuc- 
cessfully, to forget her, would the Princess have been pleased? (d) 
Why does she not like to hear about (1. 194) his longing ? (e) Or L the 
chance of his taking (1. 197) to drink, from disappointment? 

12 (a) What conception is she seen (1. 198) to have formed, from the 
Prince's talk, concerning his manliness and mental sufficiency? (b) 
What does she mean (1. 201) by blind ideal} (c) Does the Princess 
think (1. 208) that nobility or worth can make itself appreciated by 
force ? 

13 (a) Has the Princess (11. 210, 211) the right notion respecting the 
proxy-ceremonial ? (b) Why does she applaud (11. 212-214) the con- 
duct of Queen Vashti ? (c) Can you explain her breaking out in this 
apostrophe ? 

14 (a) Does the Prince, now that he has recovered breath, mend in 
his wooing ? (b) Is the Princess aware that she is being wooed ? (c) 
What points does the Prince attempt to make in this paragraph ? 



142 THE PRINCESS [canto III 

237 Babble. As in 11. 225, 226. 

241 Ourselves. "The children are so much apart of the mother's 
life as to be her real self, the self through which she suffers more than in 
her single life." — Woodberry. 

246 Pou sto. " From the challenge of Archimedes, the mathematician 
and mechanist of Syracuse (B.C. 287-212): 'Give me a place to stand 
upon, and I will move the world.' " — Wallace. 

249 Dissipated. Be disintegrated, dispersed. 

251 In lieu of many mortal flies. Instead of being so many short- 
lived creatures of a year, we had been a few select creatures of giant 
mould. 

254 The sandy footprint harden. Our uncertain experiment, innova- 
tion, become institutionalized. 

256. 257 Grand imaginations. Visions, imaginings of grand achieve- 
ments. 

261 South-sea-isle taboo. The 'taboo' or restraint that prevails in 
the South Seas. The expression is used as interpretative of the degree of 
inflexible tyranny endured by woman hitherto. " This word was brought 
home by Captain Cook's- expedition. The South Sea islands were under 
the domination of a priesthood, which reserved to its own use anything 
which any of the members of its class might fancy, by marking it and 
calling it taboo, or devoted to religious uses." — Dazoson. Nothing that 
was so marked could by any means be recovered by its rightful owner. 

262 Gynceceum. The part of a Greek house, by no means usually the 
most covetable, occupied by the women. 

265 Proof. ' Of how much their welfare is a passion to us.' 

269, 270 "In the Latin War (B.C. 340) Publius Decius Mus, one of 

the Roman generals, sacrificed himself on the spears of the enemy in 

order to secure the victory to his army, it having been revealed to him 

in a vision from heaven that one army was doomed and the general of 

1 5 i a ) "Why does the Princess at last command silence? (b) Is her 
manner of doing it queenly and well-bred ? Account for this. (<r) What 
argument or reason do you find in 1. 232? (d) What argument does 
she think she has in it ? (e) Why does she say, We are not talked to 
thus, yet prolong the conversation? (f) How does her thought (11. 236, 
237) about children square with the sentiment of the song at the close of 
Canto I. ? (/) How does her next (11. 240, 241) idea agree with the song 
at the end of Canto II. ? (g) What of the logic in wherefore (1. 248), and 
in the paragraph as a whole ? 

16 (a) Why is not the Princess grateful that the Prince at last is 
silent ? (b) Why should she care if he does think her unwomanly ? 
(c) Can you explain why she does not remember her dignity as a college 
officer, and not (1. 258; break out with further argument ? 

17 (a) What can the Princess mean (1. 260) by we are used to that? 
(b) Can you explain her willingness, even enthusiasm (11. 266-270) for 
martyrdom ? 



canto m] A MEDLEY 143 

the other. ... A chasm having appeared in the market-place of Rome, 
and the priests having declared that this would not close up until there 
had been cast into it the chief element of Rome's greatness, a young 
noble named Marcus Curtius, thinking that this condition would best be 
fulfilled by the sacrifice of one of her sons, leapt into it on horseback and 
in full armor (B.C. 362)." — Wallace. 

275 Shook the woods. According to Hallam Tennyson, — "in the 
wind made by the cataract." — Wallace. 

2^6 Color. The rainbow. 

277 Vast bulk. As the megatherium or the mastodon. 

280 Dare we dream. ' Is it right to theorize, concerning the power 
that wrought us, that it learns to make by making ? Does not that con- 
ception condition God ? ' 

285 Diotima. A prophetess of Mantinea, who is said to have in- 
structed Socrates in philosophy. 

293 Resort to vivisection. 

298 Encarnalize. Enhance the fleshliness, and minimize the spiritu- 
ality, of their nature. 

299 This matter hangs. We may open such a school or department 
yet. 

306, 307 ' God realizes in present consciousness all that shall ever be 
evolved in the most distant aeons.' This is strong thinking, and seems 
put here by the author as an index of the resources of Ida's mind. This 
paragraph marks the climax of the whole discussion. 

313 'Thus the necessity, with our limited intelligence, of instalments, 
of sequence, in cognition, produces the mode called Time.' 

322 That lift the fancy. As her fancy {cf. 1. 316, " kindled eyes ") 
has just been lifted. 

324 Elysian lawns. The glades o± Elysium, the Heaven of the 
Greek Mythology. " The language of the text, as indicating the general 
features of this happy land, seems to have been specially suggested by 
Pindar, Ofympia, IL 123-136, which Mr. Earnest Myers translates as 
follows : « Then whosoever have been of good courage to the abiding 
steadfast thrice on either side of death and have refrained their souls 
from all iniquity, travel the road of Zeus unto the tower of Kronos : 
there round the Islands of the Blest the Ocean-breezes blow, and golden 

18 (a) Do you think the Prince's continued silence tactful? (b) Why 
should the Princess be more interested in her companion (11. 282, 283) as 
a prize-winner than in his question ? (c) Why does the Prince say 
(1. 289) methinks ? Was he not sure ? (d) What is to be thought of her 
answer (11. 306-315) ? Does it argue weakness or unfacility of " vision " 
or mental power ? 

19(a) What sentiment has kindled (1. 316) the Princess's eyes? (b) 
What makes the Prince (1. 320) half-oblivious of his disguise ? (c) What 
does the Princess mean (1. 322) by fair philosophies'? (d) Does the or 
here have stress ? (e) What determines the Princess to order the tent 



144 THE PRINCESS [canto III 

flowers are glowing, some from the land on trees of splendor, and some 
the water feedeth, with wreaths whereof they entwine their hands.' " — 
Wallace. 

325 Demigods. Mortals raised by merit or favor to the privileges of 
Elysium, and of the society of the Gods. 

331 Corinnds triumph. Corinna, a poetess of Bceotia, is said to have 
overcome Pindar in five poetic contests. This was probably very gall- 
ing (11. 333-335) to Pindar, supposed the first lyric poet of the time, 
and to his friends ; and that circumstance seems to have furnished the 
chief inspiration to Ida's artist. 

332 Florid. Perhaps a degree-word for 'flushed,' over their leader's 
victory. 

334 Victor of ten-thousand hymns. Pindar wrote no end of odes cel- 
ebrating champions and victories in the national Games, and had been 
successful in the lyric contests till now. 

339 A touch of sunshine. Not so true physically as metaphysically, 
in a figure. Nothing could be more strikingly in contrast than the re- 
finement and beauty of woman's charm in the savage solitude of the rocks. 

340 Shone like' a jewel. As they climbed laboriously up the rough 
face of the cliff. 

343 Chattering. Used here surely not without reference -to its literal 
meaning. These palace-bred girls, with their exquisite toilettes, can 
have had little sympathy with the ostensible purpose of this visit. 

Stony names. Names of rock ; with figurative suggestion also 
of the hardness, to such students, of the technic terms. The author 
evidently intended to establish, with this, the climax of contrast. But 
there seems to us, now-a-days, little incongruity in the idea of lady 
students hammering off and bringing home apronfuls of specimens, if 
they will. The notion that women should study curricula essentially 
different from men's, though yet entertained more or less in England, is 
as good as exploded here. 

347 Rosy heights. After sunset, the tops of mountains not too distant 
seem shrouded in purple light, and stand out in strange distinctness 
against the background of the sky. The canto opens and closes, it will 
be noted, in exquisite coloring. 

pitched here ? (/) How far may the fact that her companion is a man 
influence her unconsciously ? (g) Glanced und shone (11. 339, 340) have 
been objected to as not spiritually true, in kind : can you explain why 
the author uses them ? (h) Are these girls dressed apparently as they 
would be attired to-day for such a jaunt ? (?) Comparing the last two 
lines of this canto with the first, do you find them of the sublime or of the 
beautiful ? 

20 (a) In what latitude do you picture the scene of this song ? (b) 
What light is it that, in this latitude, may be said to shake (1. 3)? (r) 
Which echoes, according to the suggestions, reach farther, those repeat- 
ing the bugle notes of the first, or the Elfland tones of the second stanza ? 



canto iv] A MEDLEY 145 

Lawns. Plains. 
5 Commemorative of bugle echoes (cf. Memoir I. 253, 292) at Kil- 
larney. 

9 Scar. Bare, lone rock or crag. 

CANTO IV. 

1 The fourth of the seven college poets here begins. No one of the 
.ladies, we shall remember (Fro/., 220-222), was considered capable of 

assisting in the scheme. In the first edition they were not even given 
the part of singing. Cf. Dawson, p. viii. 

2 Hypothesis. Cf. II. 10 1 -104, and note. 

4 Lean ana\ wrinkled precipices. As if personified, and discerned as 
bearing the marks of age. 

5 Coppice-feather d. Bordered so lightly with thin bushes as to sug- 
gest the feather trimmings of a robe; ' having coppice for feathers.' 

6 Ambrosial gloom. Suggests effectually the damp fragrance of the 
air, through which, without being able to see their steps in the last de- 
scent, they drop to the level of the tent. 

17 Gold. The costliest plate of the palace has been brought. Ida 
has somehow planned to include the richest entertainment with this 
' taking of the dip.' 

- 19 Fledgd. If furnished with the wings of music. 
A maid. Cf. VI. 298. 

(d) What distinctive quality of the latter is (1. 2, stanza ii) suggested ? 

(e) What becomes (11. 1, 2, stanza iii) of even these ? (f) What are (1. 3) 
our echoes} (g) What has the ultimate meaning in these stanzas to do 
with the poem or any part of the poem proper ? 

IV. 

1 (a) Can you account for the pedantic remark (11. I, 2) of the 
Princess about the sunset ? (l>) Does it argue a gradual, organic cul- 
ture, or a cram? (c) How does Cyril's pedantic talk (cf. Ill, 55-58; 
110-113) seem different or- similar? (c) Why does the author now first 
make the Prince (1. 3) say Ida ? Can you explain why the Princess 
should lean upon her companion or lend her hand (11. 8, 9) for support? 
(d) Does the Princess believe after all in the empty attentions of an es- 
cort? (e) Is she much less in strength or stature than the Prince ? (/) 
Can you understand, then, why the Prince (11. 10, 11) was stirred? 

2 (a) Is there any incongruity between the magnificence of this tent 
and its furnishings (11. 13-15), and the professed object of the trip ? (/;) If 
the Prince and his companions had not been of the party, do you think 
the Princess would have had her gold plate brought? (c) Wliat in the 
Prologue may be said to prepare for this picnicking, and the sumptuous- 
ness of it ? 

3 (a) What means (1. 20) of those beside her ? Is this her professor of 
music ? (b) Is smote (1. 20) a warranted figure, or mere phrasing ? (<r) Is 



14-6 THE PRINCESS [canto iv 

22-25 " He said that -The passion of the past, the abiding in the 
transient, was expressed in "Tears, idle Tears," which was written in 
the yellowing autumn-tide at Tentern Abbey, full for me of its bygone 
memories.'" {Memoir I. 253.) 

27 Underworld. World under the horizon. 

42 Erring. Astray from its right coursings — 'knowing not where it 
is going or should go '; the etymologic significance of the word. 

47 Cram our ears. •• Ulysses stopped the ears of his companions 
with wax as they passed the islands of the Sirens, so that they should 
not hear the singing, by which the metaphor of the ' sweet, vague, and 
fatal voice' is suggested." — IVoodberry. For the incident, cf. Odyssey, 
XII. 166-200. 

53 Glittering bergs of ice. As icebergs brought down by the Polar 
currents. 

54 Molten. "Continues the idea suggested by the simile of the ice- 
bergs just above — the old-world forms and systems melt into vapor 
under the fiery sun of Progress." — Wallace. 

59 Cancel d. That is, by the controlling powers. Cf. Genesis, XL 8. 
Kex. " Wace seys ' Kex ' is the provincial word for hemlock. In 

the country parts of England the word kecks is still in use. In Leicester- 
shire it means the dry stalks of almost any worthless weed." — Dawson. 

60 Starr' d mosaic. Mosaic palace-floors in star-shaped patterns. 
Beard-blown. The goat balances on the top of the column, in the 

wind, which blows back his beard. 

61 The wild figtree. Cf. Dawson, p. 88, for classic examples of its 
power to destroy the monuments of art. 

62 Monstrous idols. Statues of divinities, monstrous in their char- 
acter. 

68 The other distance. Towards on-coming time. 

69 Death's head at t he wine. " The metaphor, common in poetry, is 
originally from the story of Herodotus, that the Egyptians, at their 
banquets, had a wooden image of a mummy brought in and carried 
about as a reminder of death." — Woodberry. 

While the sentiment of the song, as has been shown, was personal 
with the author, the response of the Princess embodies " a very favorite 
doctrine of Tennyson's. He is never tired of expressing his faith in the 

any effect discernible from the fact the stanzas of the song are five-lined ? 
Has any song before been similar ? 

4 (a) Why did the tear (1. 42) shake ? (b) Why should the Princess 
show (1. 43) disdain at the sentiment expressed ? Is she a stranger to 
the meanings of the song ? (c) For what, in thought and language, is 
her paragraph remarkable ? (d) What, as we are forced now to recog- 
nize, must be or have been the power of Ida's presence and conversation ? 

5 (a) How far does the Prince's song ally itself with the spirit and 
dignity of the moment? (/>) Can you explain how the Prince could 
venture upon it ? 



canto ivj A MEDLEY 147 

continuous progress and ultimate perfectibility of the human state." — 
Wallace. 

100 Ithacensian suitors. Wooers, of Penelope, from Ithaca. When 
Odysseus at last returned from his wanderings, he found his home full 
of suitors, whom his wife had put off by the device of the unfinished web. 
Cf. Odyssey, XX. 229-349. 

101 Laughed with alien lips. Laughed with an unnatural expression 
about the mouth. " The suitors at the court of Penelope feel the occult 
influence of the unseen goddess, Pallas, causing their thoughts to wan- 
der. They fail to recognize Ulysses in his disguise, and their laughter 
is constrained and unnatural, they know not why. ' They laughed with 
other men sfaios ' (oi 6" ?}d?/ yva&/ioicri yeXoioov aA-Xorpiuicrn)." 
— Dawson. 

104 Bulbul. The Persian name of the Nightingale, which, in the 
poetry of that country, is represented as enamored of the rose, and woo- 
ing it ever in his song. Cf. I. 217. and note. 

Git /is tan. "Persian for rose-garden." — Dawson. 

105 Marsh-divers. The water-rail. 

106 Meadow-crake. The corn-crake, or land rail. 

107 (irate her harsh kindred. Salute you as of her kindred by her 
grating call. Kindred is here an "accusative of kindred meaning." 

IIO Made bricks in Egypt. Were the unresisting slaves of most un- 
reasonable taskmasters. 

117 Of canzonets and serenades. Indicative of his resources; not 
modes of roguery. "Canzonets" are light songs, such as sung to the 
lute in the South. " Serenades " is apparently ' serenading ' here. 

119 The muse. Not here Euterpe or Erato, but 'the Divinity of 
Music' or 'of Song'; the more modern personification. "Blaspheme" 
contributes thus its theologic suggestiveness and power. 

121 Valkyrian hymns. Alliterative verses, like those of the Elder 
Edda. The Princess affects Northern rather than Southern poetry. 
"Valkyrs" are the stalwart battle maidens of Norse mythology. They 
determine who shall fall in strife, and conduct the souls of the slain to 
Valhall, the heroes' heaven. 

122 "Such as Miriam's in the Scriptures. Exodus XV. 20."- — ■ 
Woodberry. 

123 Is duer unto. Is more the prerogative of; rather deserved by. 



6 (a) How far does the author mean (11. 99-102) that the ladies are 
trying to keep from laughing incivilly ? (b) Why is not the Princess 
incensed or at least impatient at the song ? (c) Does she perhaps divine 
(cf. III. 194, 195) what underlies it? ((/) How must the attentions or 
at least the charity of the Princess towards this sole student have seemed 
to "those about her" and the rest? (<?) What had love-poems to do 
with the "time" (1. 109) the Princess speaks of? (/) Is dashed (I, 121) 
the author's or the Princess's egotism ? 



I48 THE PRINCESS [canto iv 

125 Mock-love. Pretended affection of the wooer; like the ''rogue's " 
(1. 117) above. 

126 Mock-Hymen. Mockery of marriage. 
Winter bats. Bats in the winter time. 

129 Living wills. Having the power of independent choice, and of 
self-assertion. 

129-130 Sphered whole within ourselves. Having entire spheres 
within our own sex and nature; not needing union with a master to be 
complete. 

Owed. ' To be rendered over. ' 

133 Manners. In the larger sense of the word; as indicative of the 
ideals and development of womanhood in his kingdom. 

139 Troll. Sing in a rollicking, untrained style. 

Tavern-catch. A song, in successive parts, such as sung in bar- 
rooms. 

140 Moll and Meg. Men's nicknames of women not much respected. 
"Probably Tennyson has in mind Tempest, II. ii. 48-56." — Cook. 

147 Of a city sacked. From a city in which the women are being 
seized as captives by pillagers. 

149 Home, to horse. Even Ida is stampeded with the rest. 

154 Like parting hopes. With "passing" a supplementary partici- 
ple, the construction is difficult. ' With the experiences of one whose 
hopes are departing, I heard them pass.' 

160 Glow. Of the tripod-flame. Cf. II. 15, 16. 

162 Rapt. Carried by rapids. 

166 "As though his struggle in the water was rendered the harder 
by the fact that on the lady rested the fate of this great movement. 
This is the true touch of ironical banter." — Wallace. 

172 Glimmeringly grouped. In a group marked by the glimmering 
of their robes. 

178 Nor found. Nor tried to find; a Grecism. 

7 (a) What is evident further in 11. 134, 135, — is it patronizing? 
(/>) What does the author mean (1. 138) by sense of sport} (c) What did 
Florian mean (1. 141) by nodding? (d) Is Psyche's feeling (1. 142) 
mainly fear ? (<?) Why is not Blanche here with the rest ? If there had 
been less disparity in years would there be more alliance between the 
Head and the Hands ? (/) Why is the Prince so greatly disappointed ? 
Why should he think that further stay here in disguise would come to 
anything ? (g) Do you find, in the Prince's conduct over this emergency, 
any of his father's kingliness ? (//) Why should Melissa have clamored 
(1. I4-S)flee the death} Does 'clamor' mean that she cries out once 
only ? (?) It is this that draws out the Princess into the stampede ? 
(_/') Is her feeling (1. 159) probably rage only ? (k) Why does the author 
now so turn the plot as to make the Prince rescue the Princess ? 
(/) What, mainly, was this geologizing episode invented for ? 

8 (d) Was the retreat of the Prince now (1. 178) wise and tactful? 



canto iv] A MEDLEY 1 49 

183 Caryatids. Draped female statues, so cut as to serve as pillars. 

184 Weight of emblem. These emblems, alone, are not detailed to us. 
Va Ives. Gates, opening from the middle. 

185 The hunter. Acteon, who, intruding upon Diana and her 
nymphs, was turned into a stag. His punishment, as here shown, keeps 
him "manlike," i.e. still in human consciousness, but with antlers, that 
spike the gates, carried on his brows. 

201 Is the cry. That is, since safe return here to the palace. 
203 Mora/ leper. Shunned as such. 

206 Hooded brows. Cf. II. 443, 337. 

207 Judith. "One of the chief heroines of Jewish history. When 
her native town was besieged by the Assyrians under Holofernes, she 
made her way into the general's tent and cut off" his head as he lay 
asleep. Florian hid himself behind a statue which represented her 
holding the head of the slain Assyrian in her hand." — Wallace. Cf. 
Judith, in the Apocrypha. 

217 Either guilt. The guilt of both. 

221 And. The propositions so connected are not related very closely, 
but the conjunction is exquisitely natural. The mention of Blanche's 
coming, and his going, in the same sentence does not, to his mind, vio- 
late the law of unity. 

227 Clown. Coarse country fellow, who properly wears a smock. 

230 For. As for. 

235 Temperament. ' Hisjemperament, though ardent, sanguine, has 
a solid basis of character.' 



(b) What, if the author had made him re-enter the tent, must have 
happened ? 

9 (a) Why should the Prince have paced up and down aimlessly 
(1. 194), instead of going to his rooms? (b) How long (11. 194, 195) 
should you judge this lasted ? (e) What time of the night is it now ? 

10 (a) Do you imagine Florian taller (1. 196) than his comrades? 
(b) How could the Prince doubt (1. 198) if this were she} What does this 
measure to us ? (c) W T ho are meant (1. 200) by they ? Are these the 
same as those crying (1. 201) seize} (d) How has the author managed 
to let us know what has happened since the Princess was rescued ? 
(e) Is this the usual way in stories and novels ? (/) What must Melissa, 
closer pressed (1. 213), have actually said in answer? (g) Why should 
she act differently over the second and the third question from the first ? 
What of character discerned herein ? (//) How can the Princess propose 
to punish (1. 219) Psyche's child for her mother's dishonor? (7) Why 
did Florian now (1. 221) slip out? (y) What artistic need does the 
author seem to think compels him to add the final sentence ? 

11 (a) Have you discerned the solid base (1. 235) of tet?ipera/nent yet 
in Cyril ? (b) Do you conceive him a man of moral resources and great 
decision ? 



I50 THE PRINCESS [canto iv 

242 Thrid. Thread. Go along a narrow or winding course, as a 
thread best does. 

Musky -circled mazes. Winding paths bordered throughout with 
flowers. 

246 Puff d pursuer. A woman; no match of his in running. 

250 Mnemosyne. Goddess of Memory, and mother of the Muses. 

251 Falling on my face. Thus the author saves the unfeminine feat 
of stopping the Prince by seizure. He avoids it also (cf. 1. 241) with 
Florian. 

255 Mystic fire. "This phenomenon, commonly known as 'St. El- 
mo's Fire,' appears on the tips of masts or other pointed objects when 
there is much electricity in the air, and a storm is pending." — Wallace. 

259 Daughters of the plough. It was the plough that had made them 
what they were. Here is the strong-arm basis of this government. 

260 Blowz d. With coarse red complexions. 

261 Druid rock. Massive, unchiselled; a monument of the days of 
Titanic strength. One would like to find in this the idea of ' alien to 
present, surrounding civilization'; for the Princess is here appealing to 
and putting a premium upon the very past of woman's history that she 
has beshrewed man for causing. It is possible that the author did not 
intend tbe suggestion, but he must certainly have realized the contradic- 
tion to Ida's scheme which the case compels. The next two lines pa- 
thetically enforce the spiritual loneness and desolation of such minds, 
cleft from the main of culture. 

265 Advent. Approach; an accusative of the effect, — not object, of 
the action. 

268 Lily-shining. A degree-figure. 

269 Pp. Together; as a map, to receive less detriment. 

12 (a) Why should the Prince have tried to escape, but Florian not ? 

(b) What is the temper of the arrest as indicated (1. 241) in clutch 'dl 

(c) Would a "man" policeman clutch a person not trying to escape? 

(d) What signifies (1. 246)0/ mine earl (g) Why are not the night- 
ingales (cf. I. 218) more timid ? (/) What suggestion, from the presence 
of this bird, as to the latitude of the palace ? (g) Why should (1. 248) 
the Prince laugh ? 

13 (a) Is haled (1. 252) a gentle leading? (b) What means (1. 253) 
high ? (c) What would be the effect, upon the jewel (1. 254), of light shed 
downward ? (<■/) Why has the Princess had this, before her hair is 
fully dressed, put on ? (e) Why does she not postpone the assizes till 
her toilette is completed ? (f) If these culprits had been clothed as men, 
do you think she would have felt more sensitive ? (g) Why are the 
daughters (1. 259) now here summoned from their beds? Do they 
always stand thus, close behind her ? 

14 (a) Why did the crowd (1. 264) divide?' (b) Why is the child" 
(11. 266, 267) in such neglect? (c) Why did Melissa (1. 271) kneel? 
(d) What is clearly the mood (11. 271, 272) of Lady Blanche? 



canto iv] A MEDLEY I5I 

270 Round white shoulder. Melissa of course is wearing the clothing 
in which she came from the afternoon geologizing, and not evening dress. 
When this poem took shape the fashionable garb for ladies, even for 
morning wear, was the low-cut gown, sleeveless below the elbow. 

274 Liv'd upon my lips. Blanche is taking all the advantage that 
rhetoric can ensure. She is borrowing apparently from a weighty utter- 
ance: "Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that pro- 
ceedeth from the mouth of God " {Matt. IV. 4). 

275 Casta lies. " Sources of inspiration or culture; a pluralizing of 
Castalia, or Casta/v. the mythical spring on Parnassus, sacred to the 
Muses."— Rolfe. 

277 Like this kneeler. As a daughter. 

282 Warmer currents. A figure, now, from Blanche's geographic 
learning. 

287 Civil head. That is, in her father's court and kingdom. 

292 Jonah's gourd. Cf. Jonah, IV. 5—1 1. 

296 Planed her path. Made it easier for her to go. This Blanche af- 
fects to believe; but she probably knows better. Cf. I. 229-231. The 
Princess does not allude (II. 28-52; 60-84) to the fact that there are 
parties. But it may be that Blanche is never asked {cf. II. 81) to do the 
haranguing of fresh arrivals. 

306 Lid/ess. As good as lidless; a figure of degree. 

311 She told. Supply had, ' would have, ' from clause preceding. 

313 Stem. Character. 

314 Grain. Principles. 

Touchwood. n The name given to certain kinds of decayed wood, 
which, being exceedingly inflammable, is used to catch a spark from 
flint and steel." — Wallace. 

317 Public use. The welfare of this College commonwealth. 

326 Blazon d what they lucre. She alludes to Cyril's singing. 

328 My work. "Made known by my crafty delay, which gave her 
free rein." — Woodberry. 

339 Wisp. Will-o'-the-wisp. 

15 (a) Does this (11. 273-283) strike you as an affluent or a set speech ? 
(b) Does the learning in it seem organic ? Why ? {c) Why does she call 
(1. 302) the young men wolves ? (d) What does she mean by the 
innuendo in the rest of the line ? (e) Why does she not tell of Cyril's 
coming to her? (/) What does she mean (1. 314) by touchwood? (g) Do 
you think what she says in 1. 321 is true? How does it, if true, square 
with the promise (III. 150, 151) to Cyril? (//) Does Lady Blanche 
expect her oration to prevail ? (?) Can you account for the animus it 
exhibits ? (J) Who has been the truth-teller so far ? (k) How far do 
you think Lady Blanche conscious of her falsehoods ? (/) Do you or do 
you not suppose that Lady Blanche accounts herself a religious woman ? 
(m) Can you account for her insinuations against Psyche ? (n) Does the 
Princess appreciate that Blanche really (1. 307) unearthed the plot ? 



152 THE PRINCESS [canto iv 

344 Vulture throat. The withered neck is visible in this movement 
because bared. Cf. 1. 270, and note. 

346 Cf I. 145-15°- 

352 Niobean daughter. Daughter oj Ntobe. " According to the old 
legend, Niobe was Queen of Thebes, and had twelve children. Proud 
of this number she exulted over Leto, who had only two, Apollo and 
Artemis, whereupon these latter slew all her family, and the Queen her- 
self, mourning their loss, was changed into a stone, which yet continued 
to bewail her cruel fate." — Wallace. 

353 The bolts of Heaven. Falling and to fall from Ida's wrath. 
357> 358 Fear stared. Fear, having taken possession of her mind, 

stared from her eyes. But it is not possible to translate these degree 
metaphors; they must be spiritually discerned. 

358> 359- Wingd her transit. Gave to her passage the effect of 
wings. 

364 And bosom. Cf. I. 270, and note. 

366, 367 The rick flames. " Suggested by the disturbances in Eng- 
land, ' more than half a hundred years ago, in rick-fire days,' when the 
peasants burned the hay-ricks, and Tennyson himself took a part {cf To 
Mary Boyle, vii.-xi.)." — Woodberry, 

377 As who. As one. 

385 Cf. I. 147, and note. 

390 Contract. The Prince's father here uses a strong word, and by 
"your" makes the Princess herself responsible; as indeed, since she 
has not disclaimed but merely ignored the proxy-marriage, she really is. 



16 (a) Why should the Princess answer (1. 340) coldly ? (b) What, 
from good, is evidently her feeling? (e) Is it due to a complete under- 
standing of Blanche's character? (d) Is her manner (1. 341) of sen- 
tencing Blanche judicial and noble ? (<?) By what principle does she 
propose now (1. 343) not to cast out, but keep the child ? (/) What is 
really the explanation of this act ? 

17 (a) Who (1. 347) is the cuckoo? (b) What evidently does Blanche 
believe will be, as regards Psyche, the outcome ? (r) Why should Blanche 
treat (1. 347) Melissa thus ? (d) Does she now understand Melissa's connec- 
tion, at the first, with the affair? (e) Is there really here (11. 349-354) a 
dramatic pause? (/) Can you account (11. 357-359) for such extreme 
terror? (g) Is the lion's mood (1. 361) the former, or a new one? 
(h) Why does the child (11. 372, 373) cry now? (?) What keeps the 
Princess (1. 376) from speaking ? (J) Why should she whirl the letters 
on (1. 377) to the Prince ? 

18 (a) Why does the father begin (1. 379) with fair} What mood is 
shown? (b) What wrong (1. 382) has her father feared? (<:) How do 
you explain the Prince's father's coming ? How does he know where his 
son is ? 

19 [a) Does the other father apparently mean to insist on all (11. 388- 



CAtfTO IV] 



A MEDLEY r 53 



<3QI Of course there is a quibble on the two senses of man (cf. II. 1-32, 
and note), but unintended; this King is not given to puns, and is more- 
over in no facetious mood. 

393 Kick against. The King is not very precise in his command ot 
terms. He means, not < recalcitrate,' but ' revolt against,' 'resist.' 

400 Golden wishes. Desire of all beautiful and worthy things for you. 

401 Regal compact. Contract of kings. 

409 Stoop' d to me. Condescended to regard me from the clouds, the 
sky, lived in the stars. 

415 Clang. Cf. III. 90, and note. _ # 

Glowworm light. " Phosphorescence observable sometimes during 
calm weather on the surface of the sea. This luminous appearance is due 
to the presence in the water of innumerable minute animalcules which 
emit a pale greenish diffusive light."— Wallace. 

418 Sphered up with. Given place as a sphere or star up m. 
Cassiopeia. Queen of Ethiopia, and mother of Andromeda; set 

after death as a constellation in the northern heavens. 

419 Persephone. " Daughter of Ceres, stolen by Pluto, god of the in- 
fernal world, as she was gathering flowers in Sicily, and carried by 
him underground, where she became his queen in Hades.' — Woodberry. 

420 Winters of abeyance. While the " contract" waited. 
422 Frequence. The Latin frequentia ; 'throng.' 

426 Landskip. The old form of 'landscape.' 

427 Dwarfs. In comparison with what had been presaged or prom- 
ised. Cf I. 72, "less than fame." # 

430 431 Dazzled down, and master d. "The metaphor is changed 
to that of a weakling overpowered by superior splendor or strength." — 
Wallace. . L . . : „ , 

442 You worthiest. The Prince is both sincere and tactful, but 

note the grammar. 

443 With system. Cf. VI. 178. 

390) his imperatives equally ? (b) Which communication, probably, 
produced the effect mentioned (11. 363, 364) earlier ? •; 

20 (a) Why does the Prince stop (1. 397) before the letter is finished ? 
(b) Is it clear now why she should have wished the Prince to see the 
letters ? (c) Can she think this fair treatment ? Why ? (d) Why does 
he now rise up to speak, and why speaks impetuously ? 

21 (a) Do you admire the frankness now of the Prince's avowal be- 
fore the assembled company, daughters of the plough and all ? (6) Is there 
fault here in tact, sentiment, or manliness ? (V) Can you see whether the 
effect of the utterance, if given in private audience, had been assisted ? 
id) Was it wise to plead the authorization (1. 448) of the father's letter? 

22 (a) Is it the effect of the letter, or the preceding rather warm 
avowal, that arouses (1. 449) the Princess ? (b) Is what she does ladylike 
and justifiable ? (r) Can you account for the panic of the maids outside 
the hall, occurring at just this moment? 



154 THE PRINCESS [canto iv 

455 Court. Of- H- 9? l 7- "The Princess sits in judgment in the 
Hall, but the greater number of girls are outside in the quadrangle, 
which is illuminated by the lights of the Hall streaming through the 
windows." — Wallace. 

466 Woman-built. Because in the confusion of tongues now, only 
female tones are. heard. 

468 The mention of the Muses brings back our first impressions 
(II. 13) of this court. All was in keeping, then, with their repose and 
dignity. 

473 Crimson-rolling eye. The revolving red light on the lighthouse 
tower. The Princess has been commanded to wed this intruder, whom 
she was preparing to punish, and threatened with coercion. That makes 
her bold. 

480 Those to avenge us. The Princess has taken care to provide such, 
and not women either. Cf. V. 281-285. 

482 Maiden. Perhaps said intentionally in two senses. 

484 Protomartyr. Cf. Acts VII. 59, 60. 

493 Household staff. Domestic furnishings. 

496 Drunkard's football. To be kicked and beaten by a drunken 
husband. 

Laughing-stocks of Time. " If women remain*' no wiser than their 
mothers,' they will afford a constant subject of ridicule to one whose ex- 
perience is commensurate with the history of the world." — Wallace. 

503 Stroke of cruel sunshine. "An ironical suggestion of brightness 
when the whole face of the earth is dominated by storm." — Wallace. 

523 Lord you. Address you as "lord." 

23 (a) Is the disturbed look (I. 469) due to the feeling that has just 
manifested itself, or to a new one ? (b) Why does the Princess seem 
to have no share in the dread of soldiery ? (V) Why do not the girls hush, 
according to wont, on seeing their Head, at the window, above them ? 

24 (a) Is brawlers (1. 477) in good taste and just? (b) Can you 
imagine who the avengers (1. 480) are to be ? (c) What in the Prologue 
prepares (11. 481-485) for the idea of the Princess taking the field in 
armor ? (d) Do you find it difficult to conceive a nineteenth -century 
Princess clad in mail ? (e) Would six thousand years of exposure and 
hardship eliminate (i. 486) feminine fear of this sort? (_/") Is it true that 
there are ringleaders, that this is a malicious disorder? (g) How does 
the Princess plan to dismiss (11. 489-492) her culprits ? (//) Do you 
imagine that such is her usual discipline ? 

25 {a) Why did the company (1. 502) mutter ? (b) Why then does she 
smile ? (c) Is any particular state of mind suggested (1. 505) in floated'? 

26 (a) What prompts such irony (11. 506-509) as she now utters ? 
(b) What in the too/nans dress (1. 508), that excites such scorn, has re- 
called the fact that he saved her life ? (c) Why would it have been 
better (1. 511) had she died? (d) How is she (1. 515) assured that the 
Prince and his comrades would destroy her work ? (e) What falsehood 



interlude] A MEDLEY 155 

529 Address'd. Directed. 

536 The lights. As implied in the mention (1. 385) of beleaguers. 

541 Jest and earnest. The comedial and the serious. 

549 Ghostly ihadowings. Vague forebodings. 

INTERLUDE. 

9 Lilia sang. No one else of the singers is mentioned. Lilia breaks 
out, apparently, into the preceding stanza, as the narrative stops, with- 
out waiting for her turn. 

10 Warbling fury. Passion that expresses itself by trembling tones. 

16 That next inherited. The fifth speaker, whose turn now comes-. 

25 Cap of Tyrol. Conical, or steeple-crowned; somewhat resembling 
the style once called Alpine. 

26 Assunid the Prince. Since all the seven parts or Cantos of the 
poem are to stand in the Prince's name. 

(1. 524) is meant? (f) Does the author go beyond reason and nature, 
and the character he has created, in putting into the Princess's mouth 
(11. 5-26, 527) the last words here ? 

27 (a) Did the eight mighty daughters (1. 528) think they actually 
ejected the three young men ? (l>) Is it a fair proportion ? (e) Can you 
definitely imagine the scene ? (d) Why did these coarse women (1. 534) 
laugh, and laugh grimly ? (e) Have the women of the poem generally 
succeeded in dissociating the personal wholly from the official ? Why ? 
[f) How has the author saved the Princess from the self-imposed obligation 
to put the Prince to death ? 

28 (a) Why does the author (11. 537, 538) interpose a weird seizure 
between the Princess and the army ? (/') What good, besides, of saying 
11. 543-545 ? 

29 (a) Do you think the Prince has second-sight grounds for (1. 547) 
his cloud of melancholy ? (b) In a poem like this, as in a drama, the end 
should be prefigured in the middle portion. Do you feel assured from 
this Canto what the outcome of the whole will be ? 



(a) Why perhaps is Lilia moved (1. 9) to sing this rather than any 
other song? (b) Who is inspired more by man's strength and exploits, 
his own sex, or woman's? (c) What makes Lilia, apparently, cry now 
(1. 14) for war? (d) W r hat is now the Princess's only hope? (e) On 
which side do you think Lilia's sympathies are ? (_/) On which are 
yours ? 



156 THE PRINCESS [canto 



CANTO V. 

2 Stationary. From the Latin stattonarius, 'sentinel'; used as an 
adjective, as in "sentinel pace," "sentinel caution." Voice is 'chal- 
lenge.' 

4 Second two. Cyril and Psyche have passed this same guard. 

5 Wakes. Is not in bed. 

6 Glimmering. The long line of tents showed dimly white in the dark- 
ness, as the torchlight flickeringly reachet them. 

7 Threading. Cf. IV. 242, and note. 

8 Drowsy. Passive in meaning; 'half-asleep,' ' behaving drowsily.' 

9 Lions. Tennyson almost makes this a British camp. 
Imperial tent. Tent of the commander. 

10 Of war. Not 'about war' {cf. II. 203, " love-whispers "), but 
gen. subjective, 'that war utters.' 

14 Hissing. Whispering excitedly. 

16 Etiquette. And especially the respect due to the King's son. But 
the King takes no exception. 

18 Their baldness. "Their bald heads; formed in sportive analogy 
from such expressions as 'Their Highnesses.' " — Wallace. 

21 Slain. Felled dead, as it were ; struck prostrate. 

Gilded squire. "Gorgeously dressed youth, not yet a knight." — 
Cook. 

25 Mawkin. Diminutive of Mall (Moll); a low farm menial. 

26 Sludge. Mire. 
28 From. Just from. 

31 Whisper d. So carelessly loud as to be overheard by the King. 
37 Transient. Changing. 



1 (a) Whom is the sentinel (11. 3, 4) on the lookout for? (b) Is the 
man who escorts (1. 5) the Prince a common soldier? Is he escort or 
guide? (c) What approximately is now the hour? (d) Why is not the 
father of the Prince asleep ? 

2 (a) What gathering does the Prince find in the imperial tent ? (b) 
Do or do not these think that the Prince has been released to them on 
account of the King's demand ? (r) How far is this unjust to the 
Princess ? (d) What is the effect on us of seeing (1. 17) the two kings 
laugh together? (<?) Why should the squire (1. 21) give way to his 
mirth more than the captains ? 

3 (a) Was it merely the appearance of the Prince, as he (11. 27-29) 
seems to assume, that caused the laughing ? How have the grave cap- 
tains of the King's guard been thinking of the Prince, and regarding his 
escapade ? (b) Whom does the King (1. 33) refer to ? 

4 {a) Why do the boys (1. 35) slinkl (b) What (1. 38) interpretative 



canto v] A MEDLEY 157 

38 Woman-slough. Slough of woman-disguise, half cast already. 

46 Amazed. Cf. IV. 138. Cyril at least did not intend or expect to 
break up the company. 

58 Charr'd and wrinkled. A negress, and old. 

69 Folded. ' Folded in, as it were, upon itself ' ; or, ' from the folds of 
the cloak.' 

71, 72. " Marble figures of angels or virtues mourning over the dead, 
such as occasionally form part of the design of a Christian monument." 
— Wallace. Of course only stately and elaborate monuments are referred 
to, like some works of Canova. 

Deathless. Immortal; from the excellence of the work. 

75 Base and bad. Psyche's feelings towards these men are in strange 
contrast with Ida's. 

77 Cyril is wiser than he knows. Cf. the last stanza of the song 
following this Canto. 

90 ///. Not 'wicked,' but 'far below the standard.' Cf. 'an ill- 
fitting garment '; an ' ill wind, ' etc. 

105 Tender tilings. As the beetle. 

no At parte. At parley; in conference. 

112 Man. The masculine sex. 

120 Abuse of war. The excesses that war occasions : subjective gen- 
itive. 

121 Year. The material forms in which the year gives expression to 
itself ; crops, the harvest. 

122, 123 Household flower torn. Cf. IV. 147, and note. 
124, 125 " Notice how in this expression the actual smoke ascend- 
ing from the burning houses and granaries suggests, and is almost iden- 



propriety (1. 38) in slough! (e) What means (1. 46) amazed! (d) How 
did they fall (11. 48, 49) into the hands of the Prince's father ? 

5 (a) Why (1. 53) pitiful sight} (b) What need (1. 58) of a woman 
here ? (c) What need that she be charr d and wrinkled! 

6 (a) Does Psyche agree with Florian (1. 64) that she ought to have 
done what she did ? Can there be two inconsistent "oughts " in such a 
case ? (b) Is the Prince's attempted comfort (1. 66) comforting ? Has 
it any other quality? (c) Does Cyril (11. 76-78) show or not show some 
intuitive acquaintance with human nature? Why? id) Is the language 
in 11. 71, 72 truly interpretative? 

7 (a) How can Psyche have divined so nearly (11. 80, 81) Ida's pur- 
pose as we know it? (/>) Do you imagine Psyche thinks (11. 101, 102) to 
arouse Cyril to aid her ? Are there not reasons why she would not and 
should not say what here we find ? 

8 (a) Why apparently has not (1. no) King Gama gone? {(>) How 
can Gama bring about the fulfillment of the compact ? 

9 (a) How different now (11. 116, 117) is Gama's courtesy from that 
(I. 1 19-126) first shown ? (b) What in Gama's notion should have ex- 



158 THE PRINCESS [canto v 

tified with, the moral distorting medium through which he fears the 
Princess will thenceforth regard him. The intervention of smoke or mist 
between the eye and the object regarded causes the latter to appear 
blurred and its size magnified." — Wallace. 

125 Lightens scorn. From her eyes. 

132 Shards. Fragments, properly, of earthenware; a degree figure. 
Catapults. Stone-hurling engines. 

136 Book of scorn. The tame as (1. 137) "record of wrongs." 

140 Iron hills. "As though in his own home, to which he had re- 
tired, to die forgotten, the very scenery itself was of iron." — Wallace. 
The War-God here is not Mars, or Thor, but a new personification. 

142 Bulk* din ice. "The species has been long extinct, but perfect 
specimens, hair and all, have been brought back to human sight after 
the lapse of centuries by the melting of ice-banks in Siberia." — Wallace. 

146 That idot legend. Cf. I. 5. 

152 No rose. No feminine or effeminate thing. 

157 Dash 'd with death. Bloody from the slain. 

162 Cherry net. Such as drawn down over cherry trees to keep birds 
from the fruit. 

166, 167 "What element of cowardice is in Ida that should cause her 
to value courage in others ? * — Wallace. 

168 In extremes. With violence. 

170 Gagelike to man. In the manner of a gage, to all my sex. 

172 Clash. Perhaps 'crush as with gauntlets.' Cf. I. 87, 88. 

178 "As the pure moon shines on beauty and filth alike, making the 
former still more beautiful, and investing the latter with a charm it does 
not of itself possess." — Wallace. 

179 Clown and satyr. Weak in intelligence and bestial. 

180 More breadth of culture. That they may discriminate. 
186 Minted. Moulded in ideal shape. 

*95 Mooted. Called in question. 



tinguished the Prince's affection? (c) Why should Gama, after the 
Prince's father has (1. 115) been so absolute, appeal from him to his son? 

10 («) What do you think, if the Prince wished to give up the Princess, 
his father would do? (6) What means (11. 135, 136) turn the book of 
scorn? (c) What is your judgment as to the strength and artistic ex- 
cellence of this paragraph ? 

11 (a) Why does the author, in a poem of opposite purpose, admit 
such doctrine as (11. 144-150) the Prince's father now affirms? (b) 
What, from the feminine favor accorded to a recent hero, might be urged 
as proof of the foregoing by the unchivalrous ? (c) What is the proper 
answer to such men ? 

12 (a) What substance in the Prince's notion (11. 166-171) of Ida's in- 
trepidity ? (b) Is the Prince's summary of man (1. 191) in your opinion 
Tennyson's ? 



canto vj A MEDLEY 1 59 

196 Of Nature. ' That Nature makes her due,' apparently; not gen. 
objective. 

211 Goblins. " Elves that visit the household, sometimes mischievous, 
but not of bad nature, as in Milton's L. Allegro, 1. 105." — Woodberry. 

213 Buss'd. Kissed. 

220 Our late guests. Cyril and Florian. Cf. I. 1 1 7. 

222 Foursquare. "This expression, denoting the best conformation 
for sturdy resistance, is used again in the Ode on the Death of the Duke 
of Wellington, 1. 39."— Wallace. 

227 0/ spring. Of, or formed by, the years, one ring of growth each 
year. 

229 Valentines. Love-songs. 

234 Night and peace. The still night. Cf. Prol. 93, and note. 

239 To greet the king. On his return from capture. 

246 Thews of men. ' Such men, all muscle. ' 

247, 248 In all his movements was the presence of his sister. 

250 Airy Giant's zone. Belt of Orion. 

251 By the frosty dark. By the darkness when it is frosty, — in the 
winter months. 

252, 253 " Sirius is the Greek name for the Dog-Star, the brightest 
in the heavens, which when low down assumes a great variety of color." 
— Wallace. 

Bickers. Flickers. 

254 Washed with morning. Shine with the sun's rays upon the 
polished metal moist with dew. 

262, 263 ' Ere the laugh had got to the bottom of his lungs.' 

266 ' Sdeath. God's death, a mediaeval oath; put by the author into 
Arac's mouth, since he could not of course be suffered to swear, in our 
hearing, in modern fashion. 

269 Troth. Betrothal; that is, the obligation of it. 

271 A fair sample of the "high seriousness " of Arac's talk. 

280 And this is the last and chiefest prop of Ida's commonwealth. 

13 (a) What said by the Prince does Gama (1. 203) apparently refer to 
in kindlier ? (b) What of Gama's feeling about the detention, and the 
invasion ? Will his people agree with him ? 

14 (a) Why should the King (1. 223) be uncivil at parting ? 

15 (a) What is there in common between Gama (11. 229-231) and the 
Prince ? (b) What suggestion, in the size (1. 246) of the brothers, and of 
Ida, as to their mother ? (c) Is Gama of large proportions ? 

16 {a) Why should the Prince (11. 256-258), against his will and 
judgment (11. 196, 197) earlier, desire now to fight? {b) Why do not 
the brothers (1. 261) think of the indignity to their sister ? 

17 (a) Why does not the author make Arac's profanity (11. 266, 268, 
276, etc.) more marked? (b) What is the characterization herein? 
c) What characterizing further in his interpretation, as in 1. 271, of his 
ister ? (<:/) And what also in 11. 280-285 ? {e) What characterizing too 



l6o THE PRINCESS .[canto v 

284 Her. " St. Catherine of Alexandria, an almost, if not wholly, 
mythical personage. She is said to have lived about the beginning of 
the fourth century. She was remarkable for her learning and culture, 
which have won for her the title of the Patron Saint of Philosophy, and 
especially of ladies of high birth who pursue this study. According to 
the commonly received legend, the Emperor Maxentius (or, as some say, 
Maximin) sent the fifty wisest men of his court to convert her from 
Christianity, but she confuted them all with her own weapons of schol- 
arly rhetoric, and won them over to her faith." — Wallace. 

293 Making apparently a well-known insulting movement. This, 
and the accompanying language, are intended to place the responsibility 
for the fighting on the Princess's side. 

299 Idle. With nothing to do but defend their " honor." 

Cowards to their shame. Moral cowards, to their eventual 
regret. 

304 For his king. On account of his king's capture. 

316 Missive. Apparently 'message,' though 'messenger' is implied. 

317 By the word. Of her reply. 

324 Flush. "Fill full, with also the second meaning, stain red." — 
Woodberry. 

346 Bearded lords. Cf. 1. 20. 

347 Reasons front age and state. The chances, with his years, would 
be against him. Evidently the barons of this king's council dread the 
succession of his son. 

351 Field. Of the proposed tourneying. 

355 Bronze valves. Not of course the gates of IV. 182, which appear 
to have been postern. 



of the Princess here? (f) What is to be said of the reasonableness 
(11. 286-288) of Arac's position ? (,;<) What is the real foundation of 
Ida's commonwealth of " knowledge " and culture ? 

18 (a) What evidently do the brothers wish ? {/>) What purpose does 
Cyril's nature (1. 297) now serve? (c) What makes the Prince so eager 
(1. 300) to attempt champions greatly superior to his two friends and 
himself? Does he derive such quality from his mother? 

19 (a) What does the author (1. 305) propose to evolve now ? 

20 (a) What is the motive (1. 315, 316) that controls the Princess's 
brothers ? (b) Is it their sister's cause ? 

21 (<?) Why did not Tennyson (1. 319) write chickens for daughters ? 
(b) How far was the treatment accorded (11. 330, 331) the herald spe- 
cifically martial? (c) What is the island-crag (1. 337) on which the 
Princess seems to the Prince to stand ? (d) How can the will bred in 
the Prince (1. 341) be explained ? 

22 (a) Why does the king (1. 344) make outcry? (b) Has he or has 
he not confidence in his son's strength ? 

23 {a) Do you think this (11. 355, 356) a good theme for a deliberate 
and costly work of art? (J?) Is the author here, and in like art-themes. 



canto v] A MEDLEY l6l 

Emboss' d. Like the famous Ghiberti Gates at Florence. 
Tomyris. Queen of the Massageta?, whom Cyrus the Great, in 
his last expedition, attempted to subdue. She had threatened him with 
his fill of blood, unless he desisted from the campaign. In the battle 
that ensued Cyrus was slain; and Tomyris, on securing his body, fast- 
ened the head in a skin filled with gore, and called on him to drink to 
his satisfaction. 

358 Lists. ''The enclosure designed for the combat, with the bar- 
riers, railings, etc., and the seats around for the spectators. For a full 
and graphic description of the arrangements of tourney-lists see Scott's 
Ivanhoe, chapter VIII." — Wallace. 

363 Oration-like. Now we think of it, much of the Princess's diction 
has been declamatory. 

367, 368 Russia, where, as Dawson explains, it was once the custom 
"that the bride, on her wedding day, should present her husband, in 
token of submission, with a whip made by her own hands." 

369 The Hindoo Suttee. 

371 Mothers. Of certain Hindoo castes. 

All prophetic pity. " Their compassion for the hard fate await- 
ing their daughters in the future if they should have the misfortune to 
remain unmarried beyond the recognized period." — Wallace. 

372 Running flood. The Ganges. 

374 Motion. Cf. {Othello I. ii. 75) Shakespeare's frecpient sense of 
the word. 

376 The old leaven. That woman was inferior. 

382 Gallant institutes. High-spirited, defiant ordinances. 

389 For their sport. The Princess evidently cannot see Cyril's 
escapade (IV. 138-141) in its true relation to their visit. 

394, 395 Evidently the mother of such a son, and of his sister, must 
have been signally brave and strong. Cf. 1. 496, below. 

400 Woman's Angel. "The Guardian Spirit of our cause, an expres- 
sion derived originally from Christian theological language, but here 
used, as often, in a merely rhetorical sense, without any implication of 
belief in the existence of such spirits." — Wallace. This idea maybe 
the subject of the statue in I. 207, as Woodberry suggests. 

unfair, unreasonable? (c) What is indicated (1. 361) in a royal handl 
(d) What in (1. 362) shaken, and rolling words ? (e) How did this mis- 
sive come to Arac ? 

24 {a) Should you have expected (11. 364-374) such a beginning ? (b) 
Did Ida know who should read this letter ? (c ) Why should she rehearse 
her reasons? (d) Why (1. 397) take not his life, since (f. II. 178) it is 
already forfeit ? (e) Why should his mother (1. 398) avail now more than 
when the Prince was in her power? (/) Have not the others, who it 
seems (1. 399) are not excepted, mothers too ? Why does not the Princess 
think of this ? (g) Why does she think (11. 400, 401) that her brothers 
alone are to have the praise ? 



1 62 THE PRINCESS [canto v 

404 Gad-fly. Malicious, contemptible pursuer. 

405 The Time. The millennium of woman's rights and rule, that is 
so constantly in her visions. 

411 Shower the fiery grain. " Commerce often follows conquest, and 
these two, Trade and Power, will extend civilization, of which freedom 
is the fiery seed, over the earth. The thought is natural to an English- 
man, and the view is frequently expressed by Tennyson." — Woodberry 
" Fiery " is evidently another of Tennyson's degree figures, involving no 
element of ' fire ' except its brightness. 

417 Arms. Cf III. 19. 

Egypt-plague of men. As great a scourge as the frogs and locusts 
that infested Egypt. 

420 Is the little child. The Princess does not recognize the force that 
is working in her nature, nor the growing inconsistency of her present 
feelings with former moods. " The poem is a medley in this respect, 
for the leading characters are all vanquished, all save one — Psyche's 
baby — she is the conquering heroine of the epic. Ridiculous in the 
lecture room, the babe, in the poem, as in the songs, is made the central 
point upon which the plot turns; for the unconscious child is the concrete 
embodiment of Nature herself clearing away all merely intellectual 
theories by her silent influence." — Dawson. 

Of course this is a preposterous postscript to dash across a note, — of 
all men to Arac. But the author supposes he has no other proper way 
of making Ida reveal to us her feelings. 

428 But she may sit. There is really more affinity between the 
Princess and the Prince's father than between any two characters 
besides. The King is beginning to understand her. Later {cf. VII. 
92, 73) she will set great store by him. 

431, 432 ''Though your infatuation has beguiled you into such a 
confused state of mind that you cannot distinguish plain right and 
wrong. ' ' — Wallace. 

434 " Gama's weakness is the occasion of the ascendency of the 
Princess." — Woodberry. "The hard old king has stated a fact known 
to all observers of the genus homo\ but he has also uttered a scientific 
truth, which, according to an eminent scientific lady, Dr. Antoinette 
Brown Blackwell, is applicable to all the animal kingdom. She says 
[Sexes throughout Nature^ p. 85): 'Conversely, among a few species of 

25 (a) Was the joke about postscripts in women's letters as stale, when 
this poem was written, as now ? (b) Why does Ida (1. 420) say our? (c) 
Can you account for her declaring to her brother (1. 422) that the child 
will be kept ? (d) How does Ida justify, or does she justify, the reten- 
tion ? (e) Is this episode throughout according to nature ? (f) Is the 
type of womanhood that Ida represents apt to exhibit the maternal in- 
stinct so strongly ? 

26 (a) What (11. 428-430) is evidently capturing the harsh old king ? 
(b) What may he have suspected was her nature ? (e) What amend- 



canto v] A MEDLEY 163 

birds in several orders, the males take upon themselves the duties of incu- 
bation and the feeding of the young. . . . Whenever brilliantly-colored 
male birds have acquired something of maternal habits, tastes, and 
impulses, conversely, the females seem always to have acquired some 
counterbalancing weight of male character. They are large in relative 
size, are brilliantly colored, are active and quarrelsome, or are a little of 
all these together. The great majority of birds illustrate this law.' " — 
Dawson. 

441, 442 The gray mare is ill to live with. "Referring to the 
proverb found as early as Heywood (circa 1565): 'The gray mare is 
the better horse.' "—Cook. 

443 Tile to scullery. Roof to basement. 

448 Bantling. Young child. 

449 Like potherbs. As hawkers cry the vegetables they sell. 
472 Empanopli d. In full armor. 

475> 47^ Land of echoes. Cf. the song after Canto III. 

478 Bare on. Carried forward. 

486 Drew. Their swords; their lances being lost. 

488 Two bulks. The other brothers of Ida. Cf. I. 152, 153. 

491 Mellay. Battle in confusion, after the ranks are broken. 

498 Ladies 1 eyes. Gazing girls. 

500 yacl. Who drove a spike through the temples of Sisera, and 
delivered the Jews. Cf Judges IV. 18-24. 

507, 508 A Prince, and Cyril one. Of course the twin brothers of 
the Princess. Cf. VII. 74. For the whole description here cf. Chaucer's 
tournament, Knight's Tale, 11. 1742-1763. 

524 Sinew-corded. "The more commonplace phrase would have 
been 'cord-sinewed,' — 'furnished with sinews as strong and hard as 
cords ' ; as it stands, the expression, by inverting the form of the compari- 
son, represents Cyril's muscular excellence even more vigorously, being 



ment to our conception of his character are we forced now (cf. 1. 451) to 
make ? (d) How do you account for his change of feeling ? How far is 
this king used as a foil to the Princess ? 

27 (a) What artistic good of having (1. 466) the weird affection come ? 
(b) Do you find much shock in passing now from 19th century domes- 
tic theories to mediaeval tilting ? (c) Does the vigor of the descrip- 
tion help or not help, with us, the unreasonableness of the episode ? (d) 
What should be the Prince's feeling (11. 505, 506) when he sees Ida 
truculent, inexorable ? (e) What does he think will be the effect on her 
of seeing him fall? (f) What is Arac's feeling as shown (1. 510) in 
agrinl What does he intend? (g) Can you tell more definitely (11. 
526, 527) what the paroxysm of the Prince really was ? (h) What 
means exactly (1. 528), hung} (i) Did Arac mean or not mean to re- 
spect (1. 397) his sister's wish ? (j) What do dream and truth (1. 530) 
respectively stand for ? 



1 64 THE PRINCESS [canto vi 

susceptible of paraphrase thus: — furnished as it were with cords by vir- 
tue of his sinews." — Wallace. 

530 A feather. The plume of Arac's helmet. 

CANTO VI. 

I Had never died or lived again. Either did not stop, or began again 
after consciousness. "Or" is sometimes taken carelessly for nor; note 
the difference of meaning. A comma after "died" would assist the 
reading. Another of the seven heroes, "like shadows in a dream" 
[Prol. 221, 222), begins here to speak. 

13 For Agla'ia. Now lost, as she thinks, permanently. Cf. V. 
101-103. 

16 Great dame of Lapidoth. Deborah, the Hebrew prophetess, who 
instigated the revolt against Sisera, and celebrated the triumph of Barak 
and Jael [fudges V.). Cf. V. 500, and note. 

28 (a) Why should not the young mother weep (11. 5-7) when her 
warrior is praised " soft and low " ? (b) Why should a woman of ninety 
years know better how to arouse weeping than those more constantly 
about their mistress ? (c) What is the point of the whole lyric ? (d) 
Why is a child again and still the theme ? (e) Do you find anything here 
that explains (11. 76, 77) Cyril's exhortation to Psyche, above ? (/) How 
did Cyril know? 

VI. 

1 (a) Why does the author add here the last two lines ? (/>) Is the ef- 
fect of the paragraph clear-cut and vivid ? (c) Can you show how Ten- 
nyson makes the passage potential in the way we find ? (d) Can you 
mention any poem of the author's similar ? (e) What exactly does the 
first line mean ? (_/") What is the peculiar effect, as in 1. 4. of monosylla- 
bles ? 

2 (a) Why could not the author have contrived (1. 6) better means of 
letting us know what happened ? (0) Who set up (1. 9) the great cry ? 
(c) What would have been more natural for the King (1. 10), consider- 
ing the dignity of his state, to do? (d) What do you say of the meas- 
ure (1. 12) of his grief as indicated to us in grovch d~> [d) Why was not 
Psyche (1. 13) sorry for the Prince ? 

3 (a) Why does not Ida come down at once excitedly from the roofs ? 
(6) Why indeed is she not present, under the ladies' canopy, at the tourna- 
ment itself ? (c) How does it chance that, even in this repose and dig- 
nity, she keeps the child ? 

4 (a) What was the seed (1. 17) laughed at in the dark ? (b) What is, in 
her conception, now the tree ? (c) Why (1. 21) rushes ? (d) What is the 
peculiar effect of five-line groups like these ? (e) Have we had such be-? 
fore? 



canto VI j A MEDLEY 165 

21 To the sun. To an extraordinary height. 

25 Red cross. Sign made by the forester, for his woodmen, that the 
tree is to be no longer spared. 

38 Night of Summer. A night of shade from the midsummer sun; 
that is, her enterprise when fully matured. 

40 Fangs. "There is an obsolete sense of fang, as ' prong of a di- 
vided root.' " — Cook. 

47 Blanch? d. ''As the Latin albus was sometimes used. Cf. Scott, 
Guy Mannering : ' The dominie reckoned this as one of the white days 
of his year.' " — Rolfe. 

49 Of Spring. Of the presence, the manifestations of spring : every 
leaf and sprig and blade will be plucked. 

50 Rain an April. 'Strew delugingly.' "April is in England the 
most showery of the months." — Wallace. The Princess seems to have 
caught Tennyson's craze for degree figures. 

51 The three. The Princess cannot as yet recognize the services of 
the others (cf. 1. 74), though some are sorely hurt. 

53 Mankind. Man kind ; borrowed perhaps from Shakespeare. Cf 
"mankind witch" (W. T. II. iii. 67). 

59 Burst. ' Caused to be opened hastily.' Another degree figure. 

61 Cozvl'd. With their hoods on. 

63 Cf III. 59, and note. 

65 Isles of light. " Spots of sunshine coming through the leaves, and 
seeming to slide from one to the other, as the procession of girls ' moves 
under shade.'" (Tennyson's letter to Dawson : p. xiv of the latter's 
work.) 



5 (a) Why does the Princess think (1. 22), yet, the three enemies 
came ? (0) What songs (1. 24) did they hear ? 

6 (a) Can you trace the allegory in 11. 28-31 ? (p) In what sense 
(1. 31) is men used ? 

7 (a) What is meant (1. 34) by the iron nature in the grain ? (b) How is 
it appropriate to say (11. 33, 36) they hurt themselves, shattered their 
arm-bones, with their own blows ? 

8 (a) Is night of summer (1. 38) a kind-figure ? (b) Who are to be 
sheltered by this shade, and from what heat ? (c) Do men covet (1. 39) 
the fruits of power more than women ? (d) Why, in her thought (I. 41), 
shall not the stars escape being hit ? (e) Why does the Princess think it 
well (1. 42) to move even the stony bases of the world ? 

9 (a) What means (1. 48) the golden year ? (b) Does the Princess mean 
(11. 50, 51) that the statues of "the three" shall be admitted to her 
sacred gallery of female worthies for mere brutish strength and worth ? 
(c) What is her idea (1. 52) of being liberal! 

10 {a) Why does the Princess forget (1. 58) to leave the babe? (b) 
Why are there but (1. 60) a hundred maids, in train ? Where are the 
rest ? (c) Why does Blanche (1. 66) follow ? (a) Do you think the com- 



1 66 THE PRINCESS [canto vi 

69 Timorously. "A single foot only, the resolution of which into 
four short syllables that must be hurriedly pronounced indicates the ti- 
midity and nervousness with which the girls approach the ghastly scene." 
— Wallace. 

JO Fretwork. A rather remarkable figure of degree. 

81 By this. What she has been doing. 

82 Pass'd my way. Came towards where I lay. 

83 Whelpless eye. Revealing, by its expression of fury, the loss sus- 
tained. 

90 Tortur d. In the Latin sense of torqueo. The modern sense 
seems hardly to be added, on account of the phrase preceding. 

94 From my neck. From the cord or chain attaching them to the neck. 

Cf. I. 37, 38. 

101 Of Fancy. Of his romantic affection, that prompted the dis- 
guises, and the visit ; gen. subjective, or of the source. 

104 She bow'd. She no longer stood erect with self-assertion. 

110 Clog of thanks. Of thanks due, of obligation. 

111 Such vital aid has been rendered, not only to herself by the Prince, 
but to her cause by the fifty knights, that Ida feels her future — unless 
some liquidation can be made — hopelessly in pledge to man. 

118 Brede. Embroidery. The child was brought (IV. 266-268) to 
the Princess in night-clothing, to be (IV. 219) thrown out of doors. It 
has gold-lace garments now. 

122 Falling. " Fat little. The 'ling' has a sort of diminutive, en- 
dearing sense." — Wallace. 

129 Hollow watch. Sleeplessness, that makes hollow looks. 
Blooming. Of bright lilac color. 

130 Red grief . Grief shown by redness of the eyes. 

parison of Ida (1. 69) with the masculine leader of a herd a serious one ? 
(<?) Is it, for interpretative effectiveness, commendable ? 

11 (a) Can you understand why the old King (1. 83) can keep silence ? 
{/>) What has the father done (1. 88) to dabble his beard with blood ? (c) 
What is the pain (I. 89) she feels ? Has she not at all realized what 
this victory has cost ? (d) Why should the King, and with such patience, 
hitherto intolerant of sentiment, now hold up the tress and portrait ? (e) 
What plainly is the feeling with which she has said 1. 92 to herself? (f) 
Was her mother (1. 98), after all, like the mother of the Prince? (g) 
What exactly is meant by 1. 102 ? (h) What, as different from this, by 
1. 103 ? (/') What has made her forget the child ? (/) What is the literal 
prose equivalence (1. 105) of feeling finger ? Why not a hand} (k) 
How far does the motive (11. 107-109) that prompts her request spring 
from a sense of obligation ? 

12 (a) What means exactly (1. 113) re-father dl (b) To what degree 
are now Ida and the Prince's father (1. 114) foes? (c) Why does not 
Psyche (11. 116, 117) come up at once and boldly? Has she not the 
right? (d) Why does not Psyche now, in answer to its appeal, take up 



canto vi] A MEDLEY 1 67 

142 Learned. Recognized. 

144 All her height. The six feet of stature {cf. Prol. 218) is now- 
parted with. The Prince is probably (cf. II. 33) not of less height, but 
grows from now to the end more manly ; while the Princess loses the 
masculine traits that have been prominent hitherto. The poem was made 
a " Medley," in part, to allow such changes. 

145 Lengthened on the sand. "An object standing on wet sunlit 
sand is remarkably elongated in reflection." — Wallace. 

148 Play the Lion s mane. Play the part of having one. 

151 Of your will. Objective genitive: 'have gained by conquest 
what you wished.' 

153 Oro'd. Gathered into, confined to, the circle of what is solely 
yours. 

158 Nemesis. " To the Greeks the Goddess of Moral Justice, and as 
such most commonly regarded as the personification of Divine Retribu- 
tion for insolence or reckless defiance of established principles." — Wal- 
lace. 

164 Beats true woman. 'Makes a woman's nature by its beating'; a 
species of " accusative of effect." 

166 Port of sense. Approach, access, to feeling. 

180 Love. "Wedded love, of which the child is, by a Latin phrase, 
the 'pledge.'" — Wallace. 

186 Dead prime. Later small hours of the night; " called dead be- 
cause the vital forces are then at their lowest, and because of the hush." 
■ — Cook. 

188 The yoke. Bondage to man, — marriage. 

193 Swum in thanks. Was covered, "rilled," with tears of grat- 
itude. 

202 Part. Cf. II, 1 66, and note. 

the child ? (<?) Why does not Ida hear, at first, Psyche's clamor ? (/) 
What is her mood when (11. 135-137) she has attended? (g) Is Cyril's 
impulse (11. 139, 140) genuine, or for effect ? (h) What is really the 
effect (1. 142) of recognizing him, upon her mind? 

13 (a) Do you think Cyril's compliment (1. 147) likely to please ? (/>) 
Do you or do you not find his appeal tactful ? (c) How can he dare 
(11. 167-171) to be so bold? 

14 (a) What (11. 171, 172) is the first effect of Cyril's plea? Is he the 
object of the feeling he arouses ? What is the next mood, and how is 
it evolved ? (c) Why is it, how can it be the " men " (1. 181) who enforce 
the parting ? Is she not victor? (d) Why is not her feeling (1. 190) 
towards Cyril as at the end of his appeal ? (e) Is any contrast suggested 
between the Psyche who harangued (II. 101-164) and (11. 194-197) this 
mother ? 

15 (a) How did Psyche, without indictment, know so completely Ida's 
feeling ? (o) What word in her first sentence (1. 199) has stress ? (c) 
Why does she say this ? (d) Why (1. 201) does she feel unfit? 



1 68 THE PRINCESS [canto vi 

205, 206 The woman is so hard. " This unamiable trait results from 
woman's mission as the conservator of society. In this respect, woman's 
character is very narrow, but she feels instinctively that she cannot af- 
ford to be lax in offenses against social laws. Psyche's weakness had in 
fact broken up Ida's university, and sins against the family tend to break 
up society." — Dawson. 

235 Could share. Having found one who could receive. 

238 Tower. Observatory. 

244 Mother' 's •judgment. Cf. 1. 218. 

247 Fretted. Consumed; the original meaning of the word. 

251 Wept. Came with the softness and gentleness of tears. 

255 From my wounds. From almost the level of my body. 

264 Dirmrid her. Cf. 1. 253. 

270 Hollow heart. Cf. 11. 245-247. 

281 Nightmare weight. Cf. 1. no. 

283 Adit. Approach, entrance. 



16 (a) How must it have seemed as Ida (1. 203) gazes at the child in 
its mother's arms, but sees not its mother ? (6) Why does the author 
have all this enacted in presence of the men ? (c) How can woman, 
typically of so much tenderer feeling, be harder upon the woman than 
man upon the man ? 

17 (a) Why has Ida shifted her gaze (1. 210) from the child to the 
ground ? [b) What does the next line measure to imagination ? (e) 
What is it that " moves " Gama ? 

18 («WWhy does Gama say (1. 215) steel temper! (^What do we 
learn, from the manner (1. 217) of Gama's reference, was the feeling at 
court concerning Ida's disposition? (e) Why does he repeat this here? 
(djf* How far is the argument (11. 226-231) from Gama's self-denial com- 
pelling, — at least with us? (e) What does all flushed (\. 233) imagina- 
tively suggest to us? (f) Do you imagine there are pauses between 
some of these utterances of the king ? If so, what ones ? 

19 (a) What change, from the pose hitherto, is indicated in 1. 251 ? 
(/;) What feeling lies back of (1. 253) the doubtful smile? (e) Has the 
Prince's father spoken before? Why? (d) Has the king, now, changed 
his mind ? (rA/Does he misunderstand the Princess, or say what he 
says for effect' merely ? (/) What was the tempest (1. 263) that all ex- 
pected ? ( g ) What makes genial warmth once move ? (//) Why are 
there (1. 266) glittering drops ? 

20 (a) Why does the Princess make Psyche come all the way ? (b) Is 
Ida afraid (1. 268) she shall change her mind ? (e) Is she sure (1. 272) 
she wants forgiveness ? Could she tell why she feels so ? (d ) Can you 
analyze the feeling that expresses itself (1. 275) in dear traitor! 

21 (a) Does Ida realize what (1. 278) she is saying, or the motive that 
has swayed her ? What are the emphasized words in the line referred 
to? (b) Whom does she mean (1. 282) by yours ? (c) What inducement 



canto vi j A MEDLEY l6 9 

288 Kills me with myself. «C£ III. 241 ; though the sense is not the 
same, the meaning here being that she feels crushed, not by anything 
external, but by the- intensity of her natural emotions returning to their 
own place." — Wallace. 

280 Mob me up with. Merges all there is of me in. 

,02 "In the middle of a broken stream of water, or between con- 
fluent currents, there are formed little circles of whirling water < eddies, 
which continue to rotate without making progress down stream. — 



Wallace. 



*I0 l€ Pharos. Lighthouse; from the name of a celebrated one built 
on the island of Pharos, near Alexandria, in classic times. 

,27 Gave his hand. But without apparently uttering a word. i his 
king/we are to remember, is not usually slow of speech. 

-230 Vestal. Cf. II. 204, and note. 

Shriek* d To emphasize the conflict of associations, as these mailed 
soldiers enter, the author indulges, half-facetiously, in a few conceits. 
-The very doors and floors of the palace seem to protest against this 
violation of their virgin purpose, and the long-drawn grind of heavily 
working hinges, and the sharp shrill tone emitted by marble when 
struck & and scraped by hard iron, are by that curious conceit < the 
pathetic fallacy ' regarded respectively as a groan and a shriek ot help- 
less horror." — Wallace. . , 

338 Supporters. The figures facing each other on an heraldic shield, 
as the lion and the unicorn on the royal arms of England. 

apparently, as she sees it, in the proposition (11. 283, 284) to stop the 

college ' 

" 22(a) What makes this strong-minded creature (1. 291] 1 weep passion- 
ate tears'? (6) Why does not the King answer? (c) Why does Ida 
answer (L 296 with a bitter smile ? Can she not deny ? (d) On which 
SE must Violet's cousin (1. 299) have fought? (e) Why does the 
Princess acquiesce (1. 303) in the general law-breaking? (/) Under 
average circumstances, what would be the effect of Blanche s words ? 

23 {a) Why is Ida's voice (1. 313) ^11 of scorn ? (b) Show the appro- 
priateness of the preceding figure. „. , 
2A (a) Why does Ida declare, now, that not one but all shall be ad- 
mitted, though there is yet no consent that she nurse the Prince? (b) 
Whom does she mean (1. 318) by you ? . 

2 c (a) What is her purpose as she (1. 323) turns ? (b) What imagina- 
tive inference is forced from us by the next clause? (c) Is indignation 
the sole feeling? (d) Did not Arac do more (1. 325) than come? (e) 
What need that the Prince's father give (1. 3*7) 1 his hand ? 

26 (a) Who are meant (1. 328) by us ? (b) What doors are these (1. 
330) that groan ? What girls make up (1. 333) *}*.a£sh ? (c) Why does 
Ida (1 337) take her post by the throne? (d) Why is it artistically 
well, here and now, to show with her those monstrous pets? Je) Explain 
(1 340) rolling eyes. Do soldiers ever behave thus ? (/) What causes 



17° THE PRINCESS [canto vii 

344 Shot. Reflected with such vividness and intensity as of the light 
in a discharge of firearms; a degree-figure. 

347, 348 Minerva and Diana are incensed at this invasion of their 
precincts. Cf. 1. 330, and note to "shrieked," above. 

350 Shuddering. The mood of the author reaches its climax in this 
conceit, which under different circumstances, would be pestilent and 
intolerable. Cf. the more organic and truly interpretative "beauty" 
figure in Pro I. 66, 67. 

354 Long-laid. Suggests magnitude of plan. Cf. "deep-laid." 

355 Due. Owed to, devoted to. 

361 Held sagest. Most sensible and helpful; in Ida's judgment, least 
likely to think upon the young knights amorously. 

CANTO VII. 

I According to the fiction of the Prologue, the seventh and final nar- 
rator now takes up the story. It is the supreme task of the poem, and 
is executed with noble patience and skill. 

3 All confusion. This woman's world was forthwith topsy-turvy: 
every precept and principle is overthrown. 

4 Other laws. Than had administered it before. But "Order" is 
undoubtedly personified in the author's mind. 

5 Kindlier. Than when this commonwealth was vestal. The rule 
of even men's colleges has been thought at times other than kindly and 
sympathetic. 

(1. 342) the hush ? (g) What conflict or contrast of associations in the 
remainder of the paragraph ? 

27 (a) Why should not some captain's voice (11. 351, 352), after it is 
whispered by Ida where the sick are to be borne, issue ordinance ? (//) 
Are we to understand that the chamber (1. 355) is deeper and more shut 
from sound than others? (c) Ida set out (1. 53) to bring in the hurt 
brothers, only. Do not these now have the choicest rooms ? (d) What 
girls (11. 360, 361) were not permitted to stay ? (e) Why is it well to 
mention, at the present point, that only the great lords (1. 361) have the 
freedom of the college ? (/) If the author could not have made Blanche 
use her tongue, how would matters have been brought to the present 
pass ? 

28 (a) Do you find or not find, in these stanzas, that it is the author's 
purpose to force an amorous conclusion ? (b) What influences, not ex- 
erted actively by or from the Prince, are recognized by the Princess as 
now at work ? (c) Is this prevailment an unmanly one ? 

VII. 

I (a) Was the spirit or (1. 5) influence m the government of women's 
colleges and seminaries, when this poem was written, always kindly ? 
(l>) Does the author mean to imply that the girls, now turned nurses, 
should not have studied after the academic fashion of the earlier cantos ? 



canto vnj A MEDLEY I? 1 

7 Hung round the sick. The low voices of the tending women did not 
rise far above the sufferers, and their hands, smoothing pillows and 
administering delicacies, seemed never to be away. 

8, 9 Began to gather light. "Knowledge" cannot transfigure the 
face. Only the completed beauty of the soul does that. 

II Angel offices. Offices that only angels, or those having the angel 
nature, — not mere hirelings, can render. 

13 Their 07011 clear element. "The pure and perfect atmosphere 
proper to their finer nature." — Wallace. 

14 Fell. And held possession; as we imply in "fall of snow." 

15 Shame. The impulses of maiden modesty. 

16 FaiTd. Lost their quality and power, to her. 

18 Leaguer. "The army beleaguering the place." — Cook. 

19 Void 10a s her use. Empty, emptied, seemed her habitual em- 
ployments. 

20 To gaze. To enjoy the view of. 

21 And sees. Instead of the calm distant prospect. 

22 Drag inward. "Here used intransitively to designate the slow 
laborious movement of a huge bulk." — Wallace. 

23 Verge. Horizon. Cf IV. 29. 

25 Tarn. Small dark lake; properly among mountains. 

26 So fared she gazing there. That is, her feelings of disappointment 
are much the same in kind, though vastly greater in degree. 

30 And. Continuative towards more vital matters. 

31 Flickering. Unsteady, fluttering. 
Gyres. Spirals. 

32 Muffled cage. The body; "muffled," in that the sensorium can 
receive no impressions. 

33 Of life. In which the soul is held confined. 

Gloom d. Passed into gloom. The verb is made to denote here 
repeated, customary action, like the same tense in Greek. 

34 Drew the great night into themselves. "Seemed to absorb the dark- 
ness, whence the epithet broader -grown." — Wallace. 

36 Weird doubts. The old and strange affection, the " seizures " are 
now spoken of as ' doubts ' merely. Cf. IV. 548. Thus the author pre- 
pares to dismiss from consideration an important feature in his treatment 
of the Prince's personality. Cf. I. 18, and note. In the first, second, 
and third editions the device of "weird seizures " was not employed. 



2 {a) Why should Ida hate (1. 15) her weakness, or feel shame ? (b) 
Why did she climb to the roofs (1. 17) and gaze absently at the camp ? 
(c) How should she find (1. 29) peace after such disappointment, any- 
where ? 

3 (a) Show whether muffled cage (1. 32) is interpretatively excellent or 
apt. (b) What is the artistic purpose of this paragraph as a whole ? 
(Y) Why does it not tell who nurses the Prince ? Do we know who it 



172 THE PRINCESS [canto vit 

43 Bright. Cf. II. 302. 

44 A light of healing. Beauty that could heal ; explained by 11. 46, 

47- 

45 Silks. Curtains about the couch. 
48 length. Tedium. 

60 Built itpoi. Founded claims upon; but of course without mention. 

70 Held carnival. Behaved like one celebrating Carnival : revelled 
without restriction. After Psyche's listening to Cyril went unreproved, 
there could be no protests from the " Head." 

71 Random sweet. Carnival folk in the processions pelt unceremoni- 
ously with comfits every one they meet. Cupid cannot, we may conceit, 
fly arrows here ; in the unconventional familiarity of present conditions 
he has taken to throwing confetti, — bonbons. 

86 Frustration. The Prince's case seems hopeless. All the other 
hurt are well. The Princess's superior care of this patient has availed 
nothing. 

87 All-weary noons. That is. to one who has been deprived many 
nights of sleep. 

89 Throbb ' ef thunder. Apparently the outside [cf. I. 213) clocks and 
chimes. 

89, 90 Called on flying Time. The clocks within the palace "call on 
Time as he hurries by." — Wallace. 

is ? (d) And what as to the lapse of time ? (e) Why is the whole so 
vague ? 

4 (a) What contrast immediately in this paragraph ? (b) How can 
the Prince (1. 42) say us ? (c) How can Melissa (11. 42, 43), after found 
guilty as Psyche and her mother, keep court-favor ? (d) Why should 
the author detail the love-making between Melissa and Florian thus ? 

5 (a) Why does the author (1. 57) say sworn} (b) What exactly does 
1. 60 mean ? (e) What state of mind do we see is implied (1. 64) in hung ? 
(d) What principles, personal or other, are seen in Psyche's "yield- 
ing " ? (e) Could Ida's affections go out after such a fashion? (/) 
Why is this paragraph given ? 

6 (a) Since the halls (1. 69) are consecrated to the execration of Cupid, 
are sacred against him, what propriety in the epithet ? (b) If such love- 
making is inevitable, why detail it ? (c) Have all these swains (cf. VI. 
361 and Question) been nursed? (d ) Do you think the author should 
have made the Prince's father plead ? 

7 (a) What was the mode or condition before (1. 77) the change? (b) 
What would be the effect of such delirium upon Ida ? (c) What of the 
things (11. 80-83) he says? (d) What (1. 86) of the frustration? (c) 
Why does the author mass (11. 87-97) so many reasons, further, — is it to 
account for the Princess's change of feelings, or to alleviate the impres- 
sions such change will make? (/) How far is the approval to be 
wrought, assisted by the manner, by the language and imagery, in which 
it is essayed ? 



canto vn] A MEDLEY 1 73 

100 Harebell. "One of the most beautiful of European wild herbs, 
having a slender delicate stalk, and drooping flowers of a pale blue tint." 
— Wallace. 

1 06 Slept on the 70a lis. A light of astral softness, shaded from the 
Prince's eyes, shines on the walls. 

109 Oppiari law. "A sumptuary law passed during the time of the 
direst distress of Rome, when Hannibal was almost at the gates. It 
enacted that no woman should wear a gay-colored dress, or have moie 
than half an ounce of gold ornaments, and that none should approach 
within a mile of any city or town in a car drawn by horses. The war 
being concluded, and the emergency over, the women demanded the re- 
peal of the law. They gained one consul, but Cato, the other, resisted. 
The women rose, thronged the streets and forum, and harassed the 
magistrates until the law was repealed. "—Dawson. 

112 Hortensia. The triumvirs, after the assassination of Julius Caesar, 
proposed the levy of a tax upon rich women. Hortensia, daughter of 
Quintus Hortensius the orator, spoke against the measure with such 
eloquence that it was not decreed. 

113 Axe and eagle. Fasces, representing the civil, and standards, 
representing the military, power, which the triumviri had assumed. 

115 Alluding to the tradition, as typical, that Romulus and Remus 
were suckled by a she-wolf. 

121 Dzuelt. The tear is constant in her eye. 

123 Came round my wrist. Cf. " feeling finger " (VI. 105). 

124 Self-pity. At the helplessness and hopelessness of his plight. 
142 Living world. World of the living. 

146 "Note how this serves also to introduce the picture of the un- 
clothed Aphrodite. "- — Cook. 

8 (a) What are we to understand (1. 106) from painted} Were the 
walls frescoed merely ? (/;) What is thus suggested concerning the pro- 
portions of the room ? (c) Would the effect of such designs, after long 
unconsciousness, be reassuring ? 

9 (a) What mood is indicated, if we remember the great positiveness 
of Ida's character, in (1. 120) palm to palm she sat ? (b) How far is 
what seemed changed (11. 121. 122) in her figure to be taken as actually 
the result of her new angel moods and ministries ? (<•) What is found in 
the contrast (1. 123) between the touch round the wrist, and the earlier 
(VI. 105) one ? (d) Explain (1. 124) self-pity. (e) What difference 
(1. 129) between whisperingly and in whispers ? 

10 {a) What does the Prince (1. 131) mean in fulfil yourself '? (b) 
How is the Ida whom he knew different ? (<r) How does he mean that 
the dream (1. 134) should perfect itself? 

11 (a) Is Ida (11. 139, 140) repelled by what the Prince has said? (b) 
Whose (1. 140) is the cry ? (r) Whose the passion} (d) Does he mean 
(1. 142) that a weird seizure has been upon him ? (e) What is measured 
to our imagination in 1. 145 ? (/) Show the meaning of the comparison 



174 THE PRINCESS Lcanto vn 

147 Mood. That is, " towards man, towards me." 

148 Than in her mould that other. Than Aphrodite, when she rose 
into being, the ideal of physical beauty, from the foam of the sea. 

152 A double light. The radiance of her person reflected from the 
water. 

154 Mine. Worship. 

155 Thee. My Princess. The Prince has told his story thus far 
lingeringly, reviewingly, as expatiating on the felicity of those moments 
after a considerable interval ; but here his kindled enthusiasm reveals 
itself in an apostrophe. He must bring his Princess into presence, and 
call her "thou," — with all the meaning of the German du. 

167 Dana'e. A princess of Argos, and mother of Perseus, beloved by 
Zeus, and shut up in a tower of brass from his approach; but he obtained 
access to her by taking the form of a shower of gold. 

' ' In the present case the lover makes his appeal by drawing attention 
to the subtle spiritual magnetism that exists between the restful earth 
and the palpitating sky." — Wallace. 

177 Come down, O maid. An allegoric reference to the cold intellec- 
tual atmosphere in which the Princess had essayed to dwell. "The 
shepherd is calling his love from the chill and barren, though lofty and 
beautiful heights, down into the fruitful and smiling valleys of practical 
life, where she may find happiness by imparting, and by sharing its 
duties." — Dawson. This lyric was undoubtedly in certain features sug- 
gested by the Eleventh Idyl of Theocritus. 

(11. 147, 148) between mood and mould, (g) Was Aphrodite stately ? (//) 
Why does Ida (1. 155) now go forth ? (?) Why does she glide? (J) Why 
mute ? (£) Why does she not stay to give him, who was so near death, 
tending ? (/) Is it too much to pretend that a man in such a plight can 
be, by such means, restored ? Are there " cases " on record ? 

12 (a) How long has Ida (1. 158) remained away ? (b) Did she come 
back before or after she was sure the Prince was asleep ? (c) Why, now, 
is she reading thus aloud ? 

13 (a) What interpretative propriety (1. 161) in sleeps? (b) What (1. 
163) in winks ? (r) Whom does the author wish to signify to us by 
thou ? 

14 [a) Why (1. 165) droops •? (b) And (1. 166) glimmers ? 

15 (a) How can the stars be said (1. 167 ) to make a Danae of the earth ? 
(b) Whose voice (1. 168) seems to be speaking ? 

16 (a) Why should all the associations and imagery here be of the 
night ? (b) What is the more exact form of the phrase (1. 170) thy 
thoughts? {c) How can such or these leave a furrow ? 

17 (a) What is noticeable as to the form of this lyric ? (b) Can we as- 
sume that the Princess (r/? IV. 108) has much read such, aloud, before ? 

18 (a) Who has been (1. 177) the maid, and what is the height where 
she has been ? (b) Who are the lean-headed eagles ? What one has 
figured in this story ? (e) Of what sort is the imagery in the first six 



canto vn] A MEDLEY 1 75 

1 86 Hand in hand with Plenty. "A rich romantic version of the' 
old proverb found in the Roman poet Terence — 'Without Ceres and ; 
Bacchus Venus freezes.' The original intention and application of the 
phrase were of course gross in character, but it is equally true in this 
spiritualized form." — Wallace. 

189 Death and Morning. ' There is much of brightness to be sure, 
but there is also absence of all life.' 

Silver Horns. The peaks of the mountains, as the snow covering 
them shines in the early sun. Cf. " Matterhorn, " " Wetterhorn, " as Ger- 
man names. This idyl was written during the author's visit to Switzer- 
land, in the summer of 1846. Cf. Memoir I., p. 252. 

192 Furrozv-cloven. Cloven into furrows. "The 'furrows' are the ] 
crevasses which, owing to the splitting of the ice, run obliquely across ; 
the surface of the glacier. The outlet at the bottom is called ' dusky ' 
in contrast to the snows all about." — Wallace. 

201 Azure pillars of the hearth. High and symmetric columns of 
smoke as seen rising, in the serene and pellucid air, from the distant 
chalets. 

205 Lawn. Cf, again, Prol. 2, and note. 

205-207 The climax of these lines is in the suggestion of repose and 
beauty in domestic nature, which yet seems to come rather by the sound 
than by the sense. 

215, 216 An "illustration from unconsummated sculpture." — 
Wallace. 

222 Something wild. Not to be controlled or tamed. 

223 A greater than all knowledge. Thus the a-priori assumption 
{cf. I. 134), on which the whole fabric of her empire was to be builded, 
has come to naught. 

227 True hearts. The Princess naively joins the Prince's father with 
the Prince. 

230 Signs. Of the Zodiac. 

235 Lisp'd. In the first rustling of the morning breezes. It is the 
first stir of the dawning also fur her. 

245 Lethe. "Tennyson here, as in The Two Voices, follows Virgil 
(rdEneidVI. 748-751) and Plato {Republic) in postulating 'that the souls 

lines ? Of what in the next six ? Of what the next twelve ? Of what 
the rest ? {d) Analyze out the sources of the effect here, {e) Is azure 
pillars of the hearth (1. 201) phrasing? 

19 {a) Why does the author make the Princess (1. 212) speak ? Is she 
talking to herself? {b) What indictment and confession (11. 221, 222) 
now ? {c) What does she mean (1. 226) by ill counsel ? 

20 (a) What is the real source (11. 230, 231) of this emotion? [b) Does 
Ida note (1. 238) that what is going on (11. 235-237) without is typic of 
her own mental change ? {c) Does she imagine the Prince is listening ? 

21 {a) To what that the Princess has said does the Prince (1. 239) now 
reply ? (b) How far has woman really effected advancement (1. 243) in 



176 THE PRINCESS [canto vii 

of the dead, after a due course of purification, are made to drink of the 
water of the river Lethe, that they may return to animate new bodies, 
in utter forgetfulness of their former existence on earth." — Cooki 

246 Shining steps of Nature. In "the ascent of man." 

248 Fair young planet. The destinies of it, apparently. Cf. Con- 
clusion, 11. 77, 78. Some critics, however, understand the phrase to 
mean ' the young generation of the planet's inhabitants. ' 

251 Our place. Not 'of us twain,' but 'of the masculine sex.' 

253 Parasitic forms. Evidently < chivalrous, deferential practices,' 
as giving one's seat to a lady, etc., which, in time accepted as due to 
inferior physical strength, tend — the Prince thinks — to induce and 
fasten helplessness upon the sex. "Parasitic" seems used here in an 
active meaning. 

255 Burgeon. Burst forth into bloom. 

259 Woman is not undeveloped man. The main thesis of the poem is 
now reached. 

261 Sweet Love were slain. Woman would lose that which calls 
forth man's affection. 

266 Throw the world. A visual, but scarcely admirable, degree- 
figure for • subdue nature.' 

271 Shirts of Time. ' Outskirts of future human history.' 

272 Full-summ d. Having the sum of their powers, by development 
of each, complete. 

277 The statelier Eden back. The Eden of innocence restored, but 
nobler; with mankind habituated to the knowledge of good and evil, 
choosing but the best, enacting but the highest. 

281 Type them. Enact them for a standard. 

282 Proud. With such pride as the Princess once felt. 

288 Animal. Used without the lower associations belonging to the 
word. 

293 Of the zuorld. Not ' of life as I should find it in the world, ' for 
this is earlier than his recollection. The sense apparently is, ' endowed 
with ideals belonging to coming time.' This sounds egotistic, but a 
lover permissibly exalts himself to his beloved. 

298 There was one. The mother of the Prince; or, presumably, -of 
the author. 

spite of, in antagonism to, man ? (c) Do you think 11. 263, 264 good 
theory ? (d) Why does the Prince (1. 280) say may ? 

22 (a) Why should the Princess sigh ? (l>) Why fear what the Prince 
has said, which is not a tithe of her own late dreams, will never be ? 

23 (a) Does each fulfil (1. 285) defect in each ? (6) What means, prac- 
tically, thought in thought, they groiv ? 

24 (a) When could the Princess have had (1. 290) such a dream? 
(l>) How does she know that the Prince's nurture was a woman's mn% 
ture? • 

25 (a) Do you think the next doctrine (11. 294-297) Tennyson's, or 



conclusion] A MEDLEY 1/7 

303 Interpreter betzveen the Gods and men. The true woman and true 
mother must be chiefly this. 
308 Music. Of the spheres. 

322 Mens reverence. Other men's, those of her father's court. 

323 On pranks. Into the escapade of the disguise, and false entrance 
of Ida's college. 

327 Lived over. Cf. "lived down." 

329 Has killed it. This is 'cute, but scarcely artistic. Cf. 1. 36, 
above, and note. The author should have done away with his device 
more reasonably. 

332 Approach. The Prince cannot for weakness draw her to him- 
self; and, from misgivings (cf. 11. 317, 318), she is nut leaning, — 
•'approaching," so closely as he thinks meet. 

336 Reels. "Any object seen through a curtain of hot smoke seems 
to shiver and waver." — Wallace. 

337 Weeds. The early editions here read flowers. But the past that 
is burning is only weeds. 

342 Wome. The Princess, what for distrust of herself, and what for 
modesty, is reluctant still. 

CONCLUSION. 

2, 3 Thus the author avoids the absurdity of pretending that the 
diction of each speaker is preserved. The rest told their parts of the 
story in plain prose. He, the poet, makes the poem. 

II Mock-heroic. As in the introduction of the Princess (II. 28-52), 
with her two leopard "cats." 

17 Cf. VI. 144, and note. 

24 Realists. Those who wished (1. 18) for something real. 

27 Strange diagonal. The compromise or resultant between serious 
and burlesque treatment would have yielded certainly a strange product. 

true ? (b) What do you say of 11. 306-308 ? if) And what of the last 
line of the paragraph ? 

26 (a) What now (1. 313) disturbs Ida? (b) Where or how can she 
(11. 315, 316) have heard of his doubts! What does she really mean by 
this word ? (c) What is this allusion introduced for ? 

27 (a) Why does the Prince (1. 318) say thee! Has the Princess ap- 
plied this pronoun to him ? (b) Do you think the cause sufficient to have 
produced (1. 327) the effect declared ? (c) How far do you find this a 
lover's poem ? 

1 (a) Is Walter (1. 5) serious ? (b) Where (1. 12) does the bantering 
occur ? (c) Do we find the last canto more solemn than the one preced- 
ing ? 

2 (a) Had the author reason to think Lilia's refraining from the dis- 



178 THE PRINCESS [conclusion 

But the author's figure is not quite correct; the serious and the corned ial 
are not interfused or alternated, but relegated to opposite ends of the 
poem. 

29 But Lilia pleased me. Whether the poem at large was satisfactory 
or not, the effect of it upon Lilia was pleasing to me. 

35 Jocular: ' She might have told us something certainly; she had 
the data.' 

42 Far -shadowing. Properly ' casting long shadows ' ; but probably 
here ' far-shadowed, ' ' lying in long shadows. ' 

43 Halls. Like this manor-house of the Vivians, and "Locksley 
Hall." 

49 There, a garden. Said as the college friend points to the east- 
ward, over the valleys; in contrast with "there," in the next line, when 
he points across the Channel. 

The present paragraph appears first in the edition of 1850. "The 
poet's mind was no doubt full of the turmoil in France which broke oue 
shortly after the publication of the first edition." — Dawson. 

57 Crowd. Mob. 

58 Heat. Political excitement, crisis. 

66 Barring out. "The term applied when a rebellious class of 
pupils bolt the door against the entrance of the master. "— Wallace. 

87 Pine. Pineapples. 

90 Quarter-sessions. A quarterly court, in which, in the English 
shires, petty offenses are tried. 

97 Rookery. Rooks flying in a long line homeward. Cf. Locksley 
Hall, 1. 68. 

100 Of sunset. Formed of or by the sunset; gen. subjective. 

110 Blackened. Grew into blackness. 

112 Region of the wind. The lower air. 



pute (11. 29, 30) remarkable ? (b) What in the sequel pre 
touched her"? (c) What mood is indicated (11. 31, 32) in what 



robably has 
rhat she does ? 
(d) What meanings, by way of Lilia, has the author forced upon the 
reader ? (e) What is the evident purpose of the poem as a whole ? 

3 (a) Why does the author (1. 39) put his first person first? (b) In 
what part of England (1. 48) is this estate ? 

4 (a) Why mention that the friend (1. 50) is the Tory member s son ? 
(b) This paragraph appears first in the Third Edition, which came out in 
1850. What could he have intended by it ? 

5 (a) What apparently (1. 73) has the poet in mind? (b) What does 
he mean by, and in (1. 76) a faith ? 

6 (a) What is lord (1. 86) in contrast with ? (b) Why does the author 
call the shout (1. 101) more joyful than the city -roar ? (c) Why does he 
add (1. 105) /likewise! 

7 (a) Why should these (1. 106) go back to the Abbey? (b) Why 
should not (1. 108) at least the Aunt talk ? (c) Why does the author add 
this paragraph to the whole ? 



conclusion] a MEDLEY 1 79 

113 Deepening the courts of twilight, •' The darkness, more and more 
pervading the twilight, at last dispersed it as it were into fragments, 
which it scattered throughout the univer«^ up and up to the furthest 
recesses of Heaven." — Wallace. 

117 Disrobed the statue. The Prince has put on the attire of a 
woman, the Princess has tried to make herself a man. The statue of 
Sir Ralph, robed {Prol. 100-105) b y Lilia in red and yellow silks, has 
been typical of the incongruities and contradictions of the story. Lilia, 
now sobered from her fantastic mood, is willing to leave to Sir Ralph 
and his sex (Cf. Prol. 127-129) all the warfare of the world. 



8 (a) Why mention (1. 116) that Lilia rises quietly ? [b) Was this the 
signal to depart ? (c) How have our impressions of Lilia changed ? (d) 
Does the author mean to hint here that strong-minded theories of woman- 
hood may affect womanhood itself? How far would such a notion be 
correct ? 



INDEX TO NOTES. 



abuse of war, 157 

Academe, 131 

addressed, 155 

adit, 168 

advent, 150 

affect abstraction, 134 

affianced, 132 

Agincourt. no 

airy Giant's zone, 159 

a king a king, 119 

all confusion, 170 

all ber height, 167 

all prophetic pity, 161 

all-weary noons, 172 

all wild to found, 123 

amazed, 157 

ambrosial, 112 

ambrosial gloom, 145 

Ammonites, 1 10 

and, 149 

angel offices, 171 

animal, 176 

approach, 177 

Ascalon, no 

as flies shadow, 138 

Aspasia, 134 

assumed the Prince, 155 

as first of May, 117 

Astraean age, 135 

as who, 152 

as you came, 133 

at parle, 157 

awful odes, 123 

awnings gay, 126 

axe and eagle, 173 

azure pillars, 175 

babble, 142 
bantling, 163 
bare on, 163 
barring out, 178 
bassoon, 135 
beam, 130 
beard-blown, T46 
beats true woman, 167 
began to gather light, 171 
bestrode, 132 
bickers, 139 



blackened, 178 

blanched, 165 

blazoned like heaven and 

earth, 125 
blazoned what they were, 

blowzed, 150 
board, 126 
bolts of heaven, 152 
book of scorn, J58 
bootless calf, 119 
bottom agates, 133 
bowed her state, 131 
boys, 124 
branches, 132 
break of day, 126 
breathed, 113 
breathes full East, 141 
brede, 166 
bright, 172 
broadening, 140 
bronze valves, 160 
built upon, 172 
Bulbul, 147 
bulked in ice, 158 
burgeon, 176 
burst, 165 
bussed, 159 
but, 123 

but bringing up, 114 
by frosty dark, 159 
by the word, 160 

called on flying Time, 172 
came round my wrist, T73 
canceled, 146 
canzonets, 147 
captains, 121 
careless of the snare, 125 
Carian Artemisia, 128 
Caryatids, 149 
Cassiopeia, 153 
Castalies, 151 
cast and fling, 127 
cast no shadow, 118 
catapults, 158 
celts, no 
champaign, 139 



I charred and wrinkled, 157 
chattering, 144 
cherry net, 158 
chimeras, 116 
civil head, 151 
clad in purest white, 136 
clang, 139, 153 
clash, 158 
classic angel, 138 
claymore, no 
climax of his age, 127 
clog of thanks, 166 
cloisters, 115 
close with, 139 
clown, 149 
clown and satyr, 158 
clutched, 138 
color, 143 
come, 177 

come down O maid, 174 
compact, 120 
consonant chords, 138 
contract, 152 
convention, 1-4, 128 
cooked his spleen, 121 
coppice feathered, 145 
copse, 125 

Comma's triumph, 144 
Cornelia, 128 
court, 154 
court-Galen, 118 
courts of twilight, 179 
cowards to their shame, 

160 
cowled, 165 

crabbed and gnarled, 139 
cram our ears, 146 
crimson-rolling eye, 154 
crotchets, 116 
crowd, 178 
cruel sunshine, 154 
curls, 138 
cursed Malayan crease, no 

dame of Lapidoth, 164 

Dane, 174 

Danald, 133 

dare we dream, 143 

l8l 



182 



INDEX TO NOTES. 



dashed with death, 158 
daughters of the plough, 

150 
dazzled down, 153 
deadly lurks, 132 
dead prime, 167 
deans, 114 

Death and Morning, 175 
deathless, 157 
death's head at vine, 146 
Demigods, 144 
dewy-tasseled trees, 121 
dimmed her, 168 
Diotima, 143 
dip, 140 

disrobes the statue, 179 
dissipated, 142 
double light, 174 
dowagers, 114 
drag inward, 171 
drew, 163 

drew night into themselves, 
171 

drove his cheek in lines, 
122 

drowsy, 156 

Druid rock, 150 

drunkard's football, 154 

due, 170 

duer unto, 147 

duty duty, 140 

dwarfs, 153 

dwelt, 173 

Egypt-plague, 162 

either guilt, 149 

elm and vine, 133 

Elysian lawns, 143 

embossed, 161 

empanoplied, 163 

empurpled, 139 

encarnalize, 143 

enringed, 126 

entered on the boards, 128 

epic, 117 

erring, 146 

even, 141 

even so with woman, 130 

fabled nothing fair, 140 

facts, 1 1 1 

f .ided form, 136 

failed, 171 

fair day for text. 113 

fair young planet, 176 

fairy parachute, 112 

falling on my face, 150 

falsely brown, 136 

fangs, 165 

fared she gazing, 171 

far-shadowing, 178 

fatling, 166 



fear stared, 152 

fed her theories, 123 

fell, 171 

field, 160 

fire balloon, tit 

first fruits of the stranger, 

127 
flashes scorn, 158 
fleckless, 133 
fledged with music, 145 
fled on, 140 
flickering, 171 
florid, 144 
flush, 160 
folded, 157 
for, 132 
for a sign, 125 
forms, 129 
for their sport, 161 
for warning, 132 
foundation, 134 
foursquare to opposition, 

J 59 
frets but chafing, 124 
fretted, 168 
fretwork, 166 
from my wounds, 168 
frustration, 17 2 
full-blown, 125 
full-summed, 176 
fulmined, 130 
furrow-cloven, 175 

gad-fly, 162 
gagelike to man, 158 
Ganymedes, 138 
garth, 132 
gave, 112, 125 
gave his hand, 169 
ghostly shadowings, 155 

giftS, T20 

glazed with moonlight, 125 

glimmering, 156 

glimmeringly grouped, 148 

glittering bergs, 146 

gloomed, 171 

glow, 148 

glow-worm light, 153 

goblins, 159 

gold, 145 

golden-shafted firm, 135 

golden wishes, 153 

Graces, 126 

grain, 151 

grand imaginations, 142 

grange, 122, 132 

gratulation, 131 

gray mare ill to live with, 

163 
greater than all knowledge, 

Greek, 109 



green malignant light, 139 
Gulistan, 147 
gynaeceum, 142 
gyres, 171 

half-canonized, 119 

halls, 178 

hammer at, 139 

hand in h. with Plenty, 175 

happy faces and holiday, 

in 
harangue, 128 
harebell, 173 
has killed it, 177 
Head, 137 
head and heart, 140 
headed like a star, 129 
heart, 178 

heave and thump, 139 
held carnival, 172 
held sagest, 170 
her height, 127 
high tide of feast, 124 
hissing, 156 
hollow heart, 168 

hollow watch, 166 

home to horse, 148 

Homer, Pfato, Verulam, 130 

homicidal, 117 

honeying, 113 

hooded brows, 149 

Hortensia, 173 

household flower torn, 157 

household stuff, 154 

household talk, i ^3 

hung round the sick, 171 

husbandry, 123 

idle, 160 
I first. 126 
ill, i57 

imperial tent, 156 
in extremis, 158 
inflamed, 121 
inosculated, 138 
interpreter between gods 

and men, 177 
Iris, 137 
iron hills, 158 
isles of light, 165 
is the cry, 149 _ 
Ithacensian suitors, 147 
ivory s., i.e., in sphere, no 

Jael, 163 

jewels five words long, 134 
Jonah's gourd, 151 
"Judith, 149 
justlier balanced, 127 
just seen that it was rich, 
125 



INDEX TO NOTES. 



183 



kex, 146 

kick against, 153 
kills me with myself, 169 
kindlier, 170 
knowledge, 123 
know shadow from sub- 
stance, 118 

labor of the loom, 120 
ladies' eyes, 163 
lady-clad, 113 
lady glanced, 129 
Lady Psyche'", 128 
land of echoes, 163 
landskip, 153 
Lar and Lucumo, T29 
laughed with alien lips, 147 
laughing-stocks of Time, 

1 ,54 

lawns, 109, 145 

laws Salique, 130 

lay at wine, 129 

leaguer, 171 

learnt, 167 

length, 172 

Lethe, 175 

liberal offices of life, 131 

lidless, 151 

lieu of mortal flies, 141 

light coin, 127 

light of healing, 172 

like ghostly woodpecker, 

116 

like parting hopes, 148 

like potherbs, 163 

like this kneeler, 151 

lilted out, 134 

lily-shining, 150 

limed, 140 

lions, 156 

lisped, 175 

lists, 161 

lived over, 177 

lived thro' her, 127 

lived upon my lips, 151 

livelier land, 122 

living wills, 148 

living world, 173 

long-laid, 170 

long walks. 115 

lord you, i 54 

lose the child, 123 

lost their weeks, 115 

love, 167 

lucid, 126 

Lucius Junius Brutus, 133 

Lycian custom, 129 

made bricks in Egypt, 147 
magic music, 115 
Mahomet, 130 
maiden, 154 



maiden fancies, 120, 121 
makes noble, 128 
malison 135 
mankind, 165 
manners, 148 
marsh-divers, 147 
masque or pageant, 124 
master, 113 
mawkin, 156 
meadow-crake, 147 
mellay, 163 

melodious thunder, 136 
Memnon, 139 
men's reverence, 177 
mincing, 135 
minted, 158 
miracle of women, m 
missive, 160 
Mnemosyne. 150 
mob me up with, 169 
mock-heroic, 177 
mock Hymen, 148 
mock love, 148 
Moll and Meg, 148 
molten, 146 
monstrous idols, 146 
mood, 174 
moral leper, 149 
morning hills, 132 
mother-city, 122 
motion, 161 
muffled, 136 
muffled cage, 171 
muses, 126 
music, 177 

musky circled mazes, 150 
mystic fire, 150 

Nemesis, 167 
never died or lived, 164 
next inherited, 155 
night and peace, 159 
nightmare weight. 168 
night of Summer, 165 
Niobean daughter, 152 
no livelier, 129 
nor found, 148 
no rose, 158 
not of those, 128 
nymph Egeria, i:8 

Oasis, 131 

Odalisques, 128 

of city sacked, 148 

of clocks and chimes, 125 

of men, 130 ■ 

of sunset, 178 

of temper amorous, 117 

of three castles, 121 

of the world. 176 

of use and glory, 127 

of war, 156 



old leaven, 161 

on fire, 124 

on pranks, 177 

on the slope, 111 

on the spur, 123 

Oppian law, 173 

oration-like, icr 

orbed, 167 

other heart, 120 

other laws, 170 

our meaning here, 141 

our place, 176 

ourself. 127 

ourselves, 122 

out of place, 123 

owed, 48 

own clear element, 171 

parasitic forms, 176 

parted, 131 

pass, 132 

pasture, 111 

pavement, icg 

peasant Joan, 130 

pedant's wand, 119 

Persephone, 153 

Pharos, 169 

phrases of the hearth, 133 

pine, 178 

planed her path, 151 

platans, 140 

played the patron, 114 

play the lion's mane, 167 

pledge in wassail, 115 

port of sense, 167 

post, 124 

pou sto, 142 

presence room, 120 

prettiest, 125 

prime, 139 

Proctor's dogs, 113 

proof, 142 

protomartyr, 154 

proud, 176 

proxy- wedded, 119 

public use, 151 

puddled, 140 

puffed pursuer, 150 

puissance, 120 

quarter-sessions, 178 

raced purple fly, 132 
rain an April, 165 
random, 139 
random sweet, 172 
ran up his forks, 140 
rapt, in, 148 
raw from the prime, 129 
read down to dreams, 132 
realists, 177 



184 



INDEX TO NOTES. 



red cross, if 5 

red grief, 166 

redound, 127 

reels, 177 

regal compact, 153 

region of the wind, 17S 

retinue, 141 

Rhodope, 128 

rich as Emperor-nroths, 1 14 

rick flames, 1 52 

right and left, 138 

Roman brows of Agrippina, 

128 
rookery, 178 
rose with wings, 125 
rosy heights, 144 
rotten pales, 130 
round white shoulder, 151 
ruin, 134 
running flood, 161 

Samian Here, 139 

sandal, no 

sandy footprint harden, 142 

sapience, 132 

Sappho, 130 

sat, 129 

satin-wood, 129 

'sdeath, 159 

seats, 112 

second sight, 135 

secular, 133 

self-pity, 173 

Semiramis, 128 

serenades, 147 

set in rubric, 1 37 

set with wilful thorns. 114 

shadow of a dream, 118 

shadows in a dream, 117 

shallop, 136 

shame, 371 

shards, 158 

Sheba, 134 

she bowed, 166 

she told, 151 

shining steps of Nature, 176 

shiver to one note, 138 

shone like a jewel, 144 

shook the woods, 143 

shot, 170 

shower the fiery grain, 162 

shrieked, 169 

shuddering, 170 

sibilation, 124 

signs, 175 

silken-sandaled, 114 

silks, 172 

Silver Horns, 175 

silver litanies, 136 

sinew-corded, 163 

Sirens, 132 

skirts of Time, 176 



slain. 156 

sleek, 128 

slept on the walls, 173 

sludge, 156 

slur, 124 

smacking of the time, 112 

snowed, 121 

sobbed, 133 

softer Adams, 131 

Soldier-laddie, 112 

solecisms, 1 16 

something wild, 175 

South-sea-isle taboo, 142 

Spartan mother, 133 

sphere, 139 

sphered up with, 153 

sphered whole, 148 

starred mosaic, 146 

star-sisters answering, 135 

statelier Eden back, 176 

stationary, 156 

statutes, 127 

stayed up, 115 

steep-up, in 

stem, 151 

still, 120 

stones of Abbey-ruin, 109 

stony names, 144 

stooped to me, 153 

strait-besieged, in 

strange diagonal, 177 

stunted squaws, 128 

substance, 135 

suit with time and place, 117 

sun-shaded, 132 

superstition all awry, 130 

supporters, 169 

sward was trim, 112 

sweet love were slain, 176 

swum in thanks, 167 

tangled business of the 

world, 131 
tarn, 171 

tavern-catch, 148 
temperament, 149 
tender things, 157 
than in her mould, 174 
than the dame, 129 
that which made, 130 
theatres, 134 
their baldness, 156 
there a garden, 178 
there was one, 176 
the yoke, 167 
the liberties, 124 
the muse, 147 
the Palmyrene, 128 
the Time, 162 _ 
thews of men, 150 
third, 159 
this marble, 13S 



those lilies, 138 

those to avenge, 154 

threaded spiders, 122 

throbbed thunder, 172 

thro' warp and woof, 121 

throw the world, 176 

tile to scullery, 163 

tilth, 122 

time and frost, 112 

timorously, 166 

to-and-fro, T33 

to fetch her, 120 

to gaze, 171 

to guerdon, 124 

Tomyris, 161 

to read, 115 

tortured, 166 

to the sun, 165 

touch of sunshine, 144 

touchwood, 151 

transient, 156 

troll, 144 

troth, 159 

troubled, 121 

true hearts, 175 

twinned, 120 

two bulks ; 163 

two streams of light, 136 

type them, 176 

underworld, 146 
unmanned me, 135 
unworthier, 113 
up, 150 
Uranian Venus, 125 

valentines, 159 
Valkyrian hymns, 147 
valves, 149 
Vashti, 141 

vast bulk, 143 , 

verge, 171 
vestal limit, 132 
victor of hymns, 144 
Vulcans, 138 
vulture throat, 152 

wakes, 156 

waking dreams, 118 

Walter Vivian, 109 

wan 137 

warbling fury, 155 

warmer currents, 151 

was he bound to speak, 124 

washed with morning, 159 

weight of emblem, 149 

weird doubts, 171 

weird seizures, 118 

wept, 168 

were and were not, 140 

were touched. 13; 

we were seven, 109 



INDEX TO NOTES. 



185 



whelpless eye, 166 
whispered, 156 
white wake, 137 
wild barbarians, 137 
wild figtree, 146 
wild woods, 1 2i 
winged her transit, 152 
winters of abeyance, 153 
wisp, in 
without a star, 122 



with system, 153 
woaded. 129 
woman and man, 130 
woman built. 154 
woman is so hard, 168 
woman not undev. man, 176 
woman's Angel. 161 
woman's slought, 157 
work of Ida, 136 
would make it death, 114 



wrinkled precipices, 145 



year, 157 

you worthiest, 153 

your, 139 

your father's frontier, 12; 

your ideal, 127 

zone, 135 



Ewjlisb IReafcings for Students. 

English masterpieces in editions at once co?npetently edited and 
inexpensive. The aim will be to fill vacancies now existing 
because of subject, treatment, or price. Prices given below are 
NET, postage eight per cent, additional, lb/no. Cloth. 

Arnold (Matthew): Prose Selections. 

Edited by Lewis E. Gates, Asst. Professor in Harvard, xci -f- 348 pp. 90c. 
includes The Function of Criticism, First Lecture on Trans- 
lating Homer, Literature and Science, Culture and Anarchy, 
Sweetness and Light, Compulsory Education, " Life a Dream," 
Emerson, and twelve shorter selections, including America. 

Bliss Perry, Professor in Princeton: — ''The selections seem to me 
most happy, and the introduction is even better if possible than his 
introduction to the Newman volume. Indeed 1 have read no criticism 
of Arnold's prose which appears to me as luminous and just, and 
expressed with such literary charm." 

Browning : Selected Lyrical and Dramatic 
Poems. 

With the essay on Browning from E. C Stedman's " Victorian Poets." 
Edited by Edward T. Mason. 275 pp. 60c. 

Burke : Selections. 

Edited by Bliss Perry. Professor in Princeton, xxvi + 298 pp. 60c. 
Contents. Speeches at Arrival at Bristol, at Conclusion of 
the Poll ; Letters to the Marquis of Rockingham, to the Sheriffs 
of Bristol, and to a Noble Lord; Address to the King ; Selec- 
tions from The Sublime and the Beautiful, from Thoughts on 
the Present Discontents, from Speech on the Nabob of Arcot's 
Debts, from Impeachment of Hastings (2), from Reflections on 
the Revolution in France (7, including Fiat Money). 

Edward Dowden, the Author and Critic:— "They seem to me admira- 
bly chosen and arranged, and the introduction brings various aspects 
of Burke's mind truly and vividly before the reader." 

Coleridge : Prose Extracts. 

Edited by Henry A. Beers, Professor in Yale College, xix+148 pp. 50c. 
The selections, varying in length from a paragraph to ten 
or twenty pages, are mainly from Table Talk and Biographia 
Literaria, but also from Notes on Shakespeare etc. 



English Readings for Students, 



De Quincey : Joan of Arc ; The Mail Coach. 

Edited by James Morgan Hart, Professor in Cornell University. 
xxvi + 138 pp. 50c. 

The introduction sketches De Quincey's life and style, 

Allusions and other difficult points are explained in the notes. 

This volume and the Essays on BoswelV *s~Johiison (see under 

Macaulay) are used at Cornell for elementary rhetorical study. 

Dryden : Essays on the Drama. 

Edited by Wm, Strunk, Jr., Instructor in Cornell University, xxxviii -\- 
180 pp. 50c. 

This volume contains The Essay of Dramatic Poesy and, 
among the critical prefaces, Of Heroic Plays and The Grounds 
of Criticism in Tragedy. These are not only excellent speci- 
mens of classical English, but also have a high reputation for 
the value of their literary opinions. The introduction, besides 
treating of Dryden's life and prose style, sets forth clearly 
how he used the theories of the drama which he found in 
Aristotle, Horace, and Corneille. 

Ford : The Broken Heart. 

A Spartan Tragedy in vers*;. Edited by Clinton Scollard, Professor 
in Hamilton College. xvi + i32pP- 50c. (Buckram, 70c.) 

A play notable for its repressed emotion and psychological 
interest. Charles Lamb wrote: " I do not know where to find 
in any play a catastrophe so grand, so solemn, and so surpris- 
ing as this" [of The Broken Heart\ 

Johnson : Rasselas. 

Kdited by Oliver Farrar Emerson, Professor in Adelbert College. 
Ivi-|-i79pp. 50c. (Buckram, 70c.) 

The introduction treats of Johnson's sty:e the circumstances 

under which Rasselas was written, and its place in the history 

of fiction. The notes explain allusions and trace the sources 

of some of Johnson's materials. 

Lyly : Endimion, 

Edited by George P. Baker, Professor in Harvard College, cxcvi-f-109 
pp. 85c. (Buckram, $1.25.) 

The Academy, London : — " It is refreshing to come upon such a piece 
of sterling work; . . . tee most complete and satisfactory account of 
Lyly that has yet appeared. 



English fadings for Students. 



Macaulay and Carlyle: Essays on Samuel 
Johnson. 

Edited by William Strunk, Jr., Instructor in Cornell University. 
xl+191 pp. 5°C; 

These two essays present a constant contrast in intellectual and 
moral methods of criticism, and offer an excellent introduction to the 
study of the literary history of Johnson's times. 

Marlowe : Edward II. With the best passages 
from Tamburlaine the Great, and from his Poems. 

Edited by the late Edward T. McLaughlin, Professor in Yale College. 
xxi-f-180 pp. 50c. (Buckram, 70c.) 

Edward ZZ., besides being Marlowe's most important play, is of 
great interest in connection with Shakespere. The earlier chronicle 
drama was in Shakespere's memory as he was writing Richard ZZ., as 
various passages prove, and a comparison of the two plays (sketched 
in the introduction) affords basis for a study in the development of 
the Elizabethan drama. 

Newman : Prose Selections. 

Edited by Lewis E. Gates, Professor in Harvard College, lxii+228 pp. 
50c. (Buckram, 90c.) 

The selections lead the reader through some of the more picturesque 
and concrete passages of Newman's prose, to his impeachment of the 
liberal and irreligious tendencies of the age, his insistence on the 
powerlessness of science to make men moral, his defense of super- 
naturalism, his ridicule of English prejudice against Catholics, his 
statement of the Catholic position, and finally to two powerful 
imaginative pictures of supernatural interferences in the natural 
world-order. 

Tennyson: The Princess. 

Edited by L. A. Sherman, Professor in the University of Nebraska. [In 
preparation.] 

Postage 8 per cent, additional. 
HENRY HOLT & CO., 29 W. 23d St., New York. 



English fadings for Students. 



Specimens of prose Composition. 

itmo. Cloth. Per volume, 50^., NET. 

Prose Narration, 

Edited by William T. Brewster, Tutor in Columbia College. xxxviU 
-f-209 pp. 

Includes Selections from Scott, Thackeray, Hawthorne, Jane 
Austen, George Eliot, Stevenson, and Henry James. Part I. Ele- 
ments of Narrative — Plot, Character, Setting, and Purpose. Part II. 
Combination of the Elements of Narration. Part III. Various 
Kinds of Narrative. Part IV. Technique of Good Narrative. 

Prose Description. 

Edited by Charles Sears Baldwin, Ph.D., Instructor in Yale College. 
xlviii+145 pp. 

Includes: Ancient Athens (Newman) ; Paris Before the Second 

Empire (du Maurier); Bees (Burroughs); Byzantium (Gibbon); 

Geneva (Ruskin); The Storming of the Bastille (Carlyle); La Gio- 

conda, etc. (Pater); Blois (Henry James); Spring in a Side Street 

(Brander Matthews); A Night Among the Pines, etc. (Stevenson). 

Exposition. 

Edited by Hammond Lamont, Professor in Brown University, xxiv-f- 
180 pp. 

Includes : Development of a Brief ; G. C. V. Holmes on the 

Steam-engine; Huxley on the Physical Basis of Life; Bryce on 

the U. S. Constitution; "The Nation" on the Unemployed; 

Wm. Archer on Albery's "Apple Blossoms"; Matthew Arnold 

on Wordsworth ; etc. 

Argumentation. Modern. 

Edited by George P. Baker, Professor in Harvard College. i6mo. 
186 pp. 

Lord Chatham's speech on the withdrawal of troops from 

Boston, Lord Mansfield's argument in the Evans case, the first 

letter of Junius, the first of Huxley's American addresses on 

evolution, Erskine's defence of Lord George Gordon, an 

address by Beecher in Liverpool during the cotton riots, and 

specimen brief. 

Postage 8 per cent, additional. 

HENRY HOLT & CO., 29 W. 23d St., New York. 



" It covers almost every known phase of its subject, . . . and yet it is 
compact and readable."— Outlook. 

LAVIGNAC'S MUSIC AND MUSICIANS 

By Professor ALBERT Lavignac of the Paris Conservatory, au- 
thor of " The Music Dramas of Richard Wa.gner." Edited foi 
America by H. E. KREHBIEL, author of " How to Listen to 
Music," and translated by William Marchant. With 94 
illustrations and 510 examples in musical notation. i2mo. 
$3.00. (Descriptive circular free.) 

A brilliant, sympathetic, and authoritative work covering 
musical sound, the voice, instruments, construction aes- 
thetics, and history. Practically a cyclopedia of its subject, 
with 1000 topics in the index. 

fV. J. Henderson in N. Y. Times' Saturday Revieiv : " A 
truly wonderful production . . . along and exhaustive ac- 
count of the manner of using the instruments of the orches- 
tra, with some highly instructive remarks on coloring . . . 
harmony he treats not only very fully, but also in a new and 
intensely interesting way . . . counterpoint isdiscussedwith 
great thoroughness . . . it seems to have been his idea when 
he began to let no interesting topic escape. He even finds 
space for a discussion of the beautiful in music . . . The 
wonder is that the author has succeeded in making those 
parts of the book which ought naturally to be dry so read- 
able. Indeed, in some of the treatment of such topics as 
acoustics the professor has written in a style which can 
be fairly described as fascinating . . . harmonics he has put 
before the reader more clearly than any other writer on the 
subject with whom we are acquainted. . . The pictures of 
the instruments are clear and very helpful to the reader . . .' 
It should have a wide circulation. . . It will serve as a general 
reference book for either the musician or the music-lover. It 
will save money in the purchase of a library by filling the 
places of several smaller books ... it contains references to 
other works which constitute a complete directory of musical 
literature. . . Taking it all in all, it is one of the most im- 
portant books on music that has ever been published." 

" One of ihe most important contributions yet made to literary 
history by an American scholar "—Outlook. 

BEERS' ENGLISH ROMANTICISM— xvm. century 

By Professor Henry A. Beers of Yale. 2d impression. Gilt 
top. i2mo. $2.00. 

New York Commercial Advertiser : " The individuality of his 
style, its humor, its color, its delicacy . . . will do quite as 
much to continue its author's reputation as his scholarship. . . 
The work of a man who has studied hard, but who has also 
lived." 

New York Times' Saturday Review : "Remarkably pene- 
trating fan d scholarly. . . It is a noteworthy book by an 
acknowledged authority upon a most interesting period." 

New York Tribune : " No less instructive than readable." 

Nation: "Always interesting. . . On the whole, may be com- 
mended as an excellent popular treatment of the special sub- 
ject of the literary revival of mediaevalism in the eighteenth 
century in England." 

HENRY HOLT & CO., 2e ^ e e ^ 2 §^I treet 

iv'99 



" / do not know where else, within the limits, to find so delightful 
a selection of noble poems"— Prof. Thomas R. Price of Columbia. 

PANCOAST'S STANDARD ENGLISH POEMS 



From Spenser to Tennyson. Selected and edited by HENRY 
S. Pancoast, author of An Introduction to English Litera- 
ture, etc. 74g pp. i6mo. $1.50, net. 

Some 250 complete poems, besides selections from such long 
poems as "The Faerie Queene," " Childe Harold's Pilgrim- 
age," etc. 

There are ig pages of Ballads, 33 of Spenser, 22 of Elizabethan 
Songs and Lyrics, 16 of Elizabethan Sonnets, 51 of Seven- 
teenth Century Songs, 51 of verse from Dryden to Thomson, 
277 of verse from Thomson to Tennyson, and 100 of Victorian 
verse, 164 of Notes (chiefly biographical and appreciative), 
and an index of titles. 

New York Tribune: " We believe it will be received cordially 
by all lovers of poetry, whether elementary students or not. Basing 
his selections on the individual excellence and historic importance 
of the poems, the editor has not allowed his fidelity to the latter test 
to overrule his taste, and there is very little matter in-the book 
which is historically significant alone. First and last, this is an 
anthology of the best poetry." 

Prof. Henry A. Beers of Yale, author of " English Romanticism in 
the Eighteenth Century," etc.: " The collection seems to me in gen- 
eral made Avith excellent judgment, and the notes are sensible, help- 
ful, and not too weitlaufig." 

Prof. Albert S. Cook of Yale : "A thoroughly good selection, and 
the notes are judicious, so far as I have examined." 

Prof. William Hand Browne of Johns Hopkins: "The scope is 
amply wide, and the selections as judicious as was possible under the 
limitations. The notes, judging from a hasty glance, seem full and 
clear." 

Prof. Charles W. Kent of the University of Virginia : " Contains 
nearly all the poems I would wish in such a volume and very few 
that I would readily dispense with." 

Prof. James M. Dixon of Washington University: "It is just 
such a handy volume as can be made, by a sympathetic teacher, a 
companion to the scholar for life." 

HENRY HOLT & CO., ^Z^^Z^ll 

i 1900 



Pancoast's Introduction to American Literature. 

By Henry S. Pancoast, author of " Representative English Literature," 
xii + 393pp. i6mo. $1.00. 

The primary aim is to help the pupil to approach certain 
typical works in the right spirit, and to understand and enjoy 
them. He is led to observe the origin and history of the 
literature and the forces which have helped to shape and 
develop it ; he is taught to regard literature as a part of 
national history, and to relate it to contemporaneous events 
and social conditions. He is made to take up the works 
suggested for study in their chronological sequence, and to 
note their relations to each other and to their time. 

In the sketches of the few leading writers selected for com- 
paratively extended treatment the effort is to avoid dry 
biographical details, and to present each author as a distinct 
living person. In the critical portion the object is rather to 
stimulate appreciation and lead the student to judge for him- 
self than to force opinions on him in a purely dogmatic spirit. 



J. M. Hart, Professor in Cornell 
University : — Seems to me to ac- 
complish exactly what it attempts; 
it introduces the reader carefully 
and systematically to the subject. 
The several chapters are well 
proportioned, and the tone of the 
entire work is one of kindly and 
enlightened sympathy. 

Edwin M. Hopkins, Professo r 
in the University of Kansas : — It 
seems to me fully entitled to take 
rank with his English Literature 
as a text-book, and I shall at once 
place it on my list recommended 
for high-school work. 

The Nation :— Quite the best 
brief manual of its subject that 
we know. . . . National traits are 
well brought out without neglect- 
ing organic connections with the 
mother country. Forces and 
movements are as well handled 
as personalities, the influence of 
writers hardly less than their in- 
dividuality, 



A. G. Newcomer, Professor in 
Leland Stanford University : — He 
succeeds in saying the just and 
needful thing without being tempt- 
ed beyond, and students of the 
work can hardly fail to obtain the 
right profit from our literature 
and the right attitude toward it. 

H. Humphrey Neill, Professor 
in Amherst College : — Having used 
Mr. Pancoast's book on English 
Literature for three years with my 
class, I know about what to ex- 
pect from the present volume, and 
am sure it will fill the place de- 
manded in the teaching of Amer- 
ican Literature which his other 
book so well fills in the teaching 
of English Literature. 

The Dial: — We find in the vol- 
ume now before us the same well- 
chosen diction, sobriety of judg- 
ment, and sense of perspective 
that characterized its predecessor. 
We should say that no better book 
had yet been produced for use in 
our secondary schools. 



PANCOAST'S INTRODUCTION TO ENGLISH 
LITERATURE 

By Henry S. Pancoast. 556 pp. i2mo. $1.25 net. 

" It asumes a study of and not about English literature; 
it assumes that one author differeth from another in glory 
and influence, and that in an introductory course only 
those of predominant influence can be studied." — Prof. 
E. E. Wentworth, Vassar College. 

" It treats of movements — is not merely a catalogue of 
names and a record of critical ratings. Not even the 
dullest pupil can study it without feeling the historical 
and logical continuity of English literature." — Nation. 

It describes the political and social conditions of the 
successive periods ; notes foreign as well as domestic in- 
fluences ; emphasizes the relations of literature to history. 

" Its criticism is of a kind to stimulate investigation 
rather than to supplant it." — A. J. George, Newton 
(Mass.) High School. 

The nineteenth centu/y, for the first time in such a 
book, receives its fair share of attention. 

In style it is "interesting," says Prof. Winchester of 
Wesleyan University (Conn.), " readable and stimulating," 
says Prof. Hart of Cornell, " interesting and sensible/' 
says Prof. Sampson of Indiana University, " attractive," 
says Prof. Gilmore of Rochester University, ''well writ- 
ten," says Prof. Czamo/nsha of Smith College. 

It is fully equipped with teaching apparatus. The 
"Study Lists" give references for collateral reading, and, 
in the case of the most suitable works, hints and sugges- 
tive questions. Comparative chronological tables, a 
literary map of England, and a plan of Shakespeare's 
London are included. 

HFNRY HOI T & CO 29 w - 23d st - KEW Y0RK 

1 I L IN IX I nULl (X \^KJ , 373 Wabash Ave., CHICAGQ 
11, 190Q 



TQH' 



